listening to the Heart Sutra in Mandarin
hands on the table
mouth closed
eyes focused on the
blank screen
ears wide open
the mind closes
the heart discloses
another form of joy
in Buddhist chant
my head sways
to the left and right
like a stalk of lotus
caressed by the wind.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Eyes Wide Open
Your eyes are wide open, but yet you don’t see
All the love I have inside of me.
Eyes wide open, but you don’t look around
You don’t open your ears, you don’t hear a sound.
Eyes wide open but the beauties that surround you
Do not seem to exist.
Is it that your eyes on you are playing tricks?
Eyes wide open and yet you have a blank stare.
Have you closed off your mind?
Or you just don’t care.
What can I do to remove that haze
So that on my face you can gaze.
If I hold you tenderly in my arms
And kiss those beautiful eyes.
Will they move? Will they cry?
What must I do so that you can see
That our love was meant to be.
They say that you went deep inside yourself
To hide the hurt and pain
But without your love “ I am the same”.
Eyes wide open. Did they just glance at me?
Is it because your heart is finally free?
I see a tear forming in your eyes
Emotions being let out that you tried to hide.
Eyes wide open- now they are mine
I can see your love for the very first time.
poem by Louis Rams
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When Ears Don't Listen and Eyes Don't See
why we have two ears that can't be naturally closed
but we less listening than talking
why we have one mouth that technically is not locked
but we speak nothing less than complaint
why we have two hands that carved beautifully
but we use it to hurt someone we love
why we have two eyes that sparkling wide
but you only look at me from one side
are your hands made to close your ears
and your eyes are blind to see damage
are your hands made to lock your mouth
and you are scared to accept truth
why we have two legs that walk graciously
but you always step away from me when I try to get closer
why we have one heart that we keep sacredly
but we can't control to whom it belongs
poem by Maria Sudibyo
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Thinking
Your elbow rests on the table
Your chin tangent to your
Fist your ears steady on some
Hints your eyes focused beyond
This wall this common obstruction
Of emotional camouflage
Your face is the façade
Of this serious edifice
Your nose smells something
Pungent and offensive
Your mind opens
Your heart tries to understand
Some winged and flapping
Gains momentum and then
Flies away to heights
Your mouth is as usual
Closed and your teeth grinds
There is no food or grain
Just air in between
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Kalt
He spoke to me on a hill
My ears ringing with his voice
I had to make a choice
To hold the truth, or to spill
The barrel of the gun to my head
I tremble, eyes closed, mouth quivers
The air is cold, I have the shivers
I knew, he wanted me dead
I clench my eyes, tears pull away
His voice lowers, no louder than the wind
He knows I have sinned
There's nothing left to say
I open my eyes, the gun in my hand
The man is gone, like time in the sand
poem by Matthew Peel
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You in your closed bleeding hands
The palm that closes
Cannot hold anything
Just like this narrow mind
Unable to grapple with
What is newly given
I see your fingers are closed
I tried to tickle you so they may open
I tried to tell you something puzzling
You closed your fingers some more
What is it that you are hiding there?
It is causing you so much pain
Your hands bleed, please open them
Is it the nail? Is it a broken glass?
You are not nodding still
Is it something so important?
That even with death you still refuse?
You are not nodding still
You shake your head, you keep mum
And numb to what I am asking
So be it, close your fingers
Hide the lines in your palms
Let your hands bleed some more
We shall wait what happens next
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Every Aspect Of It!
Just because you do not see me driving,
Do not assume I am not licensed to drive.
Or that I do not 'think'...
Because I do not look the part.
You don't see half the things I do and have done.
Nor are you on my agenda.
And folks who focus their sights on others...
Are the first who find these times we live,
Difficult to adjust.
Even though they feel they 'must'...
Demand understanding,
Without participating in the development of it.
You know the kind...?
The ears closed, mouth open types!
With claims they don't know what is going on!
And rush they do to prevent,
The circumstances of truth.
Coming to bombard and overwhelm.
With the consequences of their ignorance.
You know the kind...?
The ears closed, mouth open types!
Yet conflict they are quick to define...
Instead of using their minds to take time,
Comprehending remedies.
To set aside a strategy...
To stop the havoc that has begun,
Happening in their own lives.
You know the kind...?
The ears closed, mouth open types!
And this kind of mindset today,
Is reflected on a massive scale.
People into minding the business of others...
Have found their business in shambles.
Every aspect of it!
With shock and disbelief,
As a return for their 'investment'!
You know the kind...?
The ears closed, mouth open types!
The ones who rush to cover their butts,
With implusive mindless decisions!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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The Night Dream
To R. L.
NEITHER her voice, her name,
Eyes, quietness neither,
That moved through the light, that came
Cold stalk in her teeth
Bitten of some blue flower
Knew I before nor saw.
This was a dream. Ah,
This was a dream. There was sun
Laid on the cloths of a table
We drank together. Her mouth
Was a lion's mouth out of jade
Cold with a fable of water.
Faces I could not see
Watched me with gentleness. Grace
Folded my body with wings.
I cannot love you she said.
My head she laid on her breast.
As stillness with ringing of bees
I was filled with a singing of praise.
Knowledge filled me and peace.
We were silent and not ashamed.
Ah we were glad that day.
They asked me but it was one
Dead they meant and not I.
She was beside me she said.
We rode in a desert place.
We were always happy. Her sleeves
Jangled with earrings of gold.
They told me the wind from the south
Was the cold wind to be feared.
We were galloping under the leaves
This was a dream, Ah
This was a dream.
And her mouth
Was not your mouth nor her eyes,
But the rivers were four and I knew
As a secret between us, the way
Hands touch, it was you.
poem by Archibald MacLeish
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Further Than You
Come to wind, carry it from the sun.
Come to rain, turns up the corners of my mouth.
And I like this wide open view
But Im not looking further than you
Come to stranger, wants to know my name.
Come tomorrow, I still feel the same.
And I like this wide open view
But Im not looking further than you
Oh, on a day like this you can see forever but thats okay.
And I like this wide open view
But Im not looking further than you
Come to moon, floating like a fish.
Come to first star, whod have thought itd come to this.
And I like this wide open view
But Im not looking further than you
And I like this wide open view
But Im not looking further than you
song performed by by Heather Nova
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Curtain
Blank screen of doom find me wonderful words,
nothing fancy just words that have a resonance in
my mind and gladden my heart.
I remember a boy of fourteen, every morning at six
he milked, five cows, by hand, leaning his heads on
the cow´s womb he dreamt of Africa
Africa, but I met my wife she is from Congo, so you
may say I know Africa intimately but
that was not what the boy was dreaming of.
O, blank screen do not let me fall into banalities,
it is just I like to remember as much as I can
before the screen the curtain draws the screen.
poem by Oskar Hansen
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Open Palms
morning demands
the laying of open palms
on the table
and the palms agree
and then the wind comes
and took all the lines away
the hands do not mind
this is the last day of the body
the heart is full of joy
the mind has no word
the eyes close
and the lips finally sealed
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Cant Save Your World
i cant save your world for you....
when you dont care enough
to take out the trash.....
when your eyes are blinded
by your stomach, and your ears
hear nothing but the ring of the register....
when your hands, clutching and groping,
never open, never reaching out.
when your ego convinces you
that you're better than all of this;
and your heart's closed for repairs.
when your mind is closed,
and your door is locked....
i cant save your world for you,
because you just dont care!
poem by Eric Cockrell
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They Know That They Don't Know
They know that they don't know!
And their opinions discloses the evidence.
Most of their knowledge has been obtained,
By innuendos and nonsense.
Leaving them exposed,
To an ignorance that shows.
They know that they don't know!
And any actions taken to comprehend...
Becomes entrapped by an inferiority,
Felt within them.
And that which escapes their understanding...
Is left out of their reach.
Although very close...
Are those answers they seek most.
But quick they fold their arms to their chests,
With stubborn hands to express...
Their choice not to hear,
What for them is best!
Declaring they wish not to listen...
Because facts distracts,
A consciousness they lack!
They know that they don't know.
But they want to gossip it.
They know that they don't know.
But they want to gossip it.
They know that they don't know.
But they want to gossip it...
And spread those rumors made to fit,
Those ears that are as limited!
They know that they don't know.
But they want to gossip it.
They know that they don't know.
But they want to gossip it.
They know that they don't know.
But they want to gossip it...
And spread those rumors made to fit,
Those ears that are as limited!
They know that they don't know,
With their minds closed.
They know that they don't know,
With their minds closed.
They know that they don't know,
With their minds closed.
And spread those rumors made to fit,
Those ears that are as limited!
They know that they don't know...
And it shows.
They know that they don't know...
And it shows.
They know that they don't know...
And it shows.
And spread those rumors made to fit,
Those ears that are as limited!
They know that they don't!
Stubborn and they're limited.
They know that they don't!
Stubborn and they're limited.
They know that they don't!
Stubborn and they're limited.
Stubborn and they're limited.
And spread those rumors made to fit,
Those ears that are as limited!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Morning Prayer
may my feet
follow my heart,
may the door to my heart
open both ways.
may my hands
always be open,
may my mouth
support my ears
by silence.
may my eyes
remain naked,
may my soul be connected.
may my thoughts,
words, and actions,
be the breath of compassion.
poem by Eric Cockrell
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The Chant Of Boredom
i repeat words
and i have a chew
of my syllables
love
love
love
love
crazy this mind is
crazy
having gained all the years
and yet can still
mishandle an error
oft repeated
i have focused on the
form
and is misled by its
contours
its lines like labyrinths
of the confused
mind
in willingness
to be lost
to such a ecstasy
that cannot be
easily forgotten
the promises are
rains
beyond the paths
of the gutters
overflowing
there is this
collaboration to be
destroyed
a form of masochism
because of the
beatings of
the flesh
i rest upon
time
and pierces upon
the form
going deeper
into the ramifications
of reason
i sleep upon
the breasts of time
and at the center of
its meaning
i regain the composure
of truth
lotus position
i give a bloom of my flower
arm
to the sky
i chant the song
of the leaves
i simulate the
posture of the
pond
and so here i am with
you
beyond the reach of the
flesh
in peace and harmony
with this poem
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Eyes Wide Open
Here it comes, here comes another day
Another decision on the way
Well here it comes, here comes a covered display
of preferences to make
Well here it comes, here comes a knock on the door
Open it for an opportunity
Well here it comes, here comes another day
for memories to be made
Eyes wide open
Eyes wide open all the time
'n there it was, it was a perfect take
and were you asleep or awake
There it was, it was a perfect time
to speak your mind
'n there it was, it was a chance of a lifetime
It flew right by and what did you do?
Well there it was, it was another day
for memories to be made
Eyes wide open
Eyes wide open all the time
I've got my eyes wide open
Eyes wide open all the time
Because you never know
what you might see...
song performed by by King Crimson
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Blank
Blank pages, blank lines
Blank heart, blank mind
Blank feeling, blank soul
Blank high, blank low.
I dont know why
You just cant see
That all you've ever known
Is the blank side of me.
The Bean-Stalk
Ho, Giant! This is I!
I have built me a bean-stalk into your sky!
La,—but it's lovely, up so high!
This is how I came,—I put
Here my knee, there my foot,
Up and up, from shoot to shoot—
And the blessed bean-stalk thinning
Like the mischief all the time,
Till it took me rocking, spinning,
In a dizzy, sunny circle,
Making angles with the root,
Far and out above the cackle
Of the city I was born in,
Till the little dirty city
In the light so sheer and sunny
Shone as dazzling bright and pretty
As the money that you find
In a dream of finding money—
What a wind! What a morning!—
Till the tiny, shiny city,
When I shot a glance below,
Shaken with a giddy laughter,
Sick and blissfully afraid,
Was a dew-drop on a blade,
And a pair of moments after
Was the whirling guess I made,—
And the wind was like a whip
Cracking past my icy ears,
And my hair stood out behind,
And my eyes were full of tears,
Wide-open and cold,
More tears than they could hold,
The wind was blowing so,
And my teeth were in a row,
Dry and grinning,
And I felt my foot slip,
And I scratched the wind and whined,
And I clutched the stalk and jabbered,
With my eyes shut blind,—
What a wind! What a wind!
Your broad sky, Giant,
Is the shelf of a cupboard;
I make bean-stalks, I'm
A builder, like yourself,
But bean-stalks is my trade,
I couldn't make a shelf,
Don't know how they're made,
Now, a bean-stalk is more pliant—
La, what a climb!
poem by Edna St. Vincent Millay
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The Song of Quoodle
They haven't got no noses,
The fallen sons of Eve;
Even the smell of roses
Is not what they supposes;
But more than mind discloses
And more than men believe.
They haven't got no noses,
They cannot even tell
When door and darkness closes
The park a Jew encloses,
Where even the law of Moses
Will let you steal a smell.
The brilliant smell of water,
The brave smell of a stone,
The smell of dew and thunder,
The old bones buried under,
Are things in which they blunder
And err, if left alone.
The wind from winter forests,
The scent of scentless flowers,
The breath of brides' adorning,
The smell of snare and warning,
The smell of Sunday morning,
God gave to us for ours
* * * * * * * * * * * * * *
And Quoodle here discloses
All things that Quoodle can,
They haven't got no noses,
They haven't got no noses,
And goodness only knowses
The Noselessness of Man.
poem by G.K. Chesterton
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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The fruits on the table
I love the papayas
Spread on the table
Reddish orange papayas
Plump and Smooth to my
Hands
And some purple grapes
Sweet pulp
Luscious to my
Lips
Some rambutans
Hairy fruits in red
Tickling to my
Fingers
Pungent durian
Tasting like
Heaven to
My mind
They are all spread on
The table
And I would caress smooth
Reddish papayas with
My bare hands
Put a grape in my mouth
And my tongue
Does the savoring of
Juicy rambutans
My lips close in
To a juicy roundness
As I breathe on some
Red hairs
Of this magical luscious fruit
The durian is opened
And the taste of heaven
Comes to my mind
With eyes closed as
Though I own all the passions
Of this world
When we were young and
Crazy about ourselves
I laid her on the table
And spread herself there
She was all those kinds of
Fruits to me and I was the
Hands, the mouth, the lips,
The tongue
The stomach that swallowed her all
Every bit that was juicy
Every freshness every plumpness
She was all fruits to me
She was all nature giving in, all over
To the passions of this fruit lover.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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You Closed Your Eyes I Caressed You
you closed your eyes I caressed you
with this music not mine
this song not yours
the music
sung by this voice
you closed your eyes I caressed you
and all thoughts that came
with all that we felt
with this music not mine
all then was ours
together we were
you closed your eyes I caressed you
not just you not just me
in silence we bonded
with this music not mine
our tears were the same
when she sang
you closed your eyes I caressed you
with this music not yours and not mine
closing your eyes, I caressed you
with this music not mine
this song not yours
we heard this voice
and all thoughts that came
all we felt
all was ours
not just mine
not yours
in silence we bonded
our tears
were the same
poem by Ina SchrodersZeeders
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