Mindless Of Who And What I Am
there is a flow of the river
like a stream of
my consciousness
that does not mind
driftwood
it minds its own sound
of flowing
on and on
there is no complaint
what burden is carried
what winding ways
to ease
that which is held with
least resistance
there is no rock so high
and hard
there is no obstruction
this river
that goes on with its song
on and on and on,
mindless of everything
the stones and birds staring.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Related quotes
If life’s a river
If life’s a river
Flowing on a course
Long proven to be the best way
To reach the sea, then flow on
If the rocks and boulders
Are the cross
Each one of us is given to bear
Let our river flow around rocks
Over time, the sharp edged rocks will
Be rounded by the rivers flow
Ever there, but not so jagged
As they were before
The ever changing banks have seen
A trickle grow into a youthful stream
And swelling into a mighty river
That sometimes mingles with another
Every river looks for a path
That’s less rocky, a shorter way to the sea
Ever quietly flowing
Ceaselessly searching
Until one day, when it is time
A new path opens
The river changes path
And yet, every river pours into the sea.
poem by Anita Atina
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Determination
for it is said my friend
that there is no such thing as
a hard rock
to a constant dripping of
the dropp of rain
there is not such thing as an
impenetrable void
to a loving heart
there is no such obstruction strong enough
to stop a flowing river
no rock stays forever
to a gentle song
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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And... The River Runs Through It
Those sweet memories still linger in my mind
The chain of mountains, The birds singing their song,
The outspread meadows...
And the river that runs through it!
I still see us walking along the river bank holding each other's hand.
And as we lie down on the grass, Interlocked in arms, looking at the sky,
The rock sings for us, a melodious song,
As the river runs through it!
I still go there
Sometimes in dreams and sometimes in real.
The birds are still singing and the rock still sings.
Everything is unchanged except the fact that
You are nowhere to be seen.
You have crossed over to the other side of the river,
The outstretched field of heaven!
And as I sit on the grass, sorrow grips my mind
And... The river runs through it!
poem by Arti Honrao
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Learn From The Song Of The River
Learn from the river. It flows.
It does not ever stop or stand still.
It would only be a puddle, if it stopped.
It would evaporate, dry up, cease to be, if it fell in love with a scene, staying there, never to move again.
The river leaps over rocks, swirls around anything that blocks its way.
If something obstructs that is too big to move, too hard to dissolve, the river simply washes over and around; persistently, unrelentingly wearing away at the obstruction, until the river conquers and reconstructs its pathway and time is all it takes.
The river sings a varied melody, because it incorporates into its singing, what ever comes into its course.
Under low hanging trees, between high rising hillsides, over sand or piles and stacks of rocks, between narrow banks, through wide passes, covering deepest crevasses, flirting along shallow bottoms,
the river adjusts its song, as it changes its environment.
It creates new harmony with the alto of the earth's echoes,
the soprano of the leaves and grasses,
the basso grande of the rock face and walls of hills and mountains.
Over and above, the tenor of the sky sings recitative,
the melody of God's creation, blending the song of the river into unmatched beauty with all.
We, who try to live like a river, will flow.
No myth will conquer us, saying, 'Stay here, eternity will find this all unchanged.'
We know that the fleeting moment never will pass again, those same low hanging branches.
The river sees each scene but once.
We who live like a river, understand that each rock of crisis,
each bend in our course, which drives us to a new direction,
can never still our song.
For the river flows on eternally, in the course set only by God.
And the river blesses or curses, as it wills, everything that it passes
poem by Phyllis Thompson Halle
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Just Follow The Flow
just follow the flow
of words like the water flowing on the river
like the paper boat on the water flowing to the river
like the river flowing through the edges of banks
above the stones and pebbles of
everything swerving from mountain to mountain
of least resistances
the rocks that block your path you
just kiss them and then you go
following the flow again with the wind above you
just folow the flow of your thoughts in your heart
you do not even like to see
everything is smooth, freely flowing, taking shape
and form and having scent and perfume and so exuding
and then
an explosion inside well kept and taken care of
it is great, it is really great that feeling
so short and quick and yet so appealing
no one hears it except you because you
love it and so it has become so real
to your touch
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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The Song And The Sigh
The creek went down with a broken song,
'Neath the sheoaks high;
The waters carried the song along,
And the oaks a sigh.
The song and the sigh went winding by,
Went winding down;
Circling the foot of the mountain high,
And the hillside brown.
They were hushed in the swamp of the Dead Man's Crime,
Where the curlews cried;
But they reached the river the self-same time,
And there they died.
And the creek of life goes winding on,
Wandering by;
And bears for ever, its course upon,
A song and a sigh.
poem by Henry Lawson
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Our Way At Giving Poetry A Contemporary Name
poetry is just a flow of the river, taking away what is floating there
everything, from the heart to the vastness of the sea,
you get carried, not just by the substance of the river in-itself,
but also of the sound of the flow so uniquely yours, unequaled even
by the perfection of those who were here ahead of you,
you get carried away, you become the river itself, the leaf, the sand,
the bubble, the fish, the twigs, the paper boat, the shadow of the clouds
the mirror of the sky, clear so clear, murky and so murky, you flow
to be one with the sea, the horizon, you become more and less,
you get carried away both with the bulk and the bulge and the budge,
you get carried away, you lose yourself with the wind, you hear all the
sounds, you talk and walk, and then you feel the happiness of the earth
and the sky and the whole of the galaxy.
There exists no borders of time. It is all space. Bliss.
There are no lessons, not even visions, there is only the universal lull.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Where Am I? I Am In The Middle Of An Idea.
i am in the middle of an idea.
it is like a river always flowing.
at the top are blessings like rain
on a clear bright day, and on the
ground are glistening dews,
like diamonds. On the right side
are trees filled with ripe fruits,
and below them are bushes
filled with yellow flowers. On the
left side of this river, are stones,
and cliffs, and crevices, and
at the height of all these silence,
is the call of the west wind.
There is a confusion somewhere.
But there is also a certainty like
the brightness of the sun. I am torn
between these two choices.
I am in the middle of this idea.
Like a river, i continue flowing.
Like the driftwood, i no longer care.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Can Streams Flow Along The River Sides?
Can the streams run upto the oceans far?
Can they run along the side of the rivers known?
You were a river and I a stream
Who flowed together once.
Using the sixth sense I read your mind
The one none could read before.
Each line written on your mind
Unveiled a portrait painted never.
You were a river and I a stream..
Aside my failing senses old
Triumphed my sixth sense young.
You, the river got flooded
And I, the stream was drowned.
Denouncing the last reason left you kept even my soul off-
An act someone else could have done.
Each word spoken at my funeral often
Unravelled the mystery of your mind.
Along the side of the river of your ego,
May I flow as a stream entwining you ever in the next life too?
poem by M.d Dinesh Nair
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Misty River
This morning
Me in this Misty River
All the happiness
I am feeling inside myself
Misty River
The mist is coming
From this Misty River
There are clouds
In the sky
And the mist
Is caused by the condensation
Of the heat mixed in the cold water
Misty River
I am in a fishing boat
That boat is moving slowly in this
Misty river
It is early in the morning
I am eating my breakfast in the fishing boat in the middle of this
Misty River
I hear the birds singing early in the morning
In this Misty River
There must be trees because the sound of the birds is coming from the Branches
Misty River
So peaceful
It looks so different with the mist
No one is around but me
With my fishing boat
And the beautiful sound of the birds
It is so nice
To have a place to come to
Where I can
Hear the sound of the birds
And be left alone
With no one disturbing me
Misty River
This is my special place
And by afternoon
No clouds I will see
The birds are beautiful
Their song is just beautiful like mother nature intended it to be
If nobody else appreciates this Misty River
I do
Misty River
I will die for you
Misty River
I will shed my tears for you
I have been coming here for so long now
Misty River
poem by Aldo Kraas
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Dreamy River
There's a dreamy river flowing
Down the street from my house
I walk down there after work
But I paddle my way home
There's a dreamy river flowing
On every street corner in the world
And if that young moon is in the sky
She'll wink at you and let you pass by
There's a dreamy river flowing
From my refrigerator into my mouth
It only costs a few dollars
To keep those shelves stocked
There's a dreamy river flowing
From my mouth into my gut
There's a dreamy river flowing
From my wank into the street
There's a dreamy river flowing
In my mind as I lay to sleep
There's a dreamy river flowing
From a town I've never been to
Across this great country
And also from overseas
Sometimes from people's kitchens
Transversing time and space
I float down this river
Every night and day
There's a dreamy river flowing
From the hops and the malts and sugar
I call it my brother, I call it my wife
I call it my true friend
Let me float upon you dreamy river
And drown all these sorrows
That call to me from pasts I've severed
poem by Spencer Breau
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Down The River I Flow
Down the river I flow
My feelings I never show
I just keep flowing along
Singing the same old song
A song of anger, A song of sadness
A song that sings of the on coming madness
Singing a song from the beginning
Yet never truly ending
Starts off with happiness
Then hits hard the pain
Next comes on the sadness
Ending with insanity being maintained
Down the river I flow
Heart full of sadness and woe
Sadness for my child that never existed
Woe for my heart being twisted
Twisted in the worst way
Dealing with pain each and every day
Wishing it would have been true
A child born from me and you
But you messed it all up
By not coming out and telling me the truth
But in your face it finally blew up
So now I flow down this river so early in youth
poem by Lumvouris Webb
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Watching The River Flow
While Sun shines bright
And the Moon is full aglow
That is the time
To sit and watch the river flow.
For that is the time
To write poems in the sand
And also in the mind
To hold a Lady's hand.
Heaven is above us
And Earth is still below
And not a better place to be
But to sit and feel the flow.
Fishes now are swimming
As the birds they do fly
Up and down the river
To where the bullfrogs cry,
Stars are shining bright
And the Moon is all aglow
While sitting beneath the moonlight
Listening to the river flow.
The shivers are going out
For the rivers flowing in
Up and down my life and soul,
Only to begin once again.
Heaven is above us
And the Earth is still below
How I love to sit and wish
And hear the river as it flow.
Randy L. McClave
poem by Randy McClave
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Where Is The River?
Where is the river?
Is it here
Or somewhere else
Where is the river?
Is it here
Or hidden under the ground
Where is the river?
Is it here
Or safe inside the cave
Where is the river?
Is it here
Or still far away
Where is the river?
Is it here
Or up above the cloud
Where is the river?
Is it here
Or out of our reach
Where is the river?
Is it here
Or trickling on the rock
Where is the river?
Is it here
Or gathering in the pool
Where is the river?
Is it here
Or down over the cliff
Where is the river?
Is it here
Or just sight of illusion
Where is the river?
Is it here
Running in your eyes
Where is the river?
Is it here
Or sudden flood in the road
poem by Maria Sudibyo
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Dark River
Swift 'n deep you run “Dark River”
Flowing relentless to a distant sea
You care not what gets in your way
Oh, impassive taker and faux-giver
How many canyons have you carved?
How many great trees carried away?
How many sins have washed clean?
Not even Mother Nature you obey
Dark River brought love to me
Then quickly washed it away
Deep ‘neath a million ripples
My fragile heart she did betray
Flow on Dark River, flow on
A Briny fate awaits, flow on
ROTMS
poem by Ray Lucero
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The River Forever To The Ocean Flow
The river that flows from the hills far away
Through wetlands and dry lands by night and by day
As old as father time will journey forever more
Through the flat coastal lands en route to the sea shore.
It starts on it's journey as a trickling rill
In a pond by a rock at the base of the hill
That is far north of here even as the crow fly
The river flows on and refuses to die.
From a rill to a stream and into a river it grow
As rills and streams from other hills into it flow
It babbles and gurgles by hedgerow and tree
On it's forever journey on down to the sea.
A creek, brook, stream or river call it what you may
Near the ocean it grows to a huge water-way
And Humans like the Seasons to life come and go
But the river forever to the ocean flow
poem by Francis Duggan
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Heart Is Like A River
My heart is like a river Flowing like the river nile
So many things flow in there
And there are many things to grow there
That blows my mind very much
My taught is like a fish in the river
My heart is deep like a river.
poem by Segun Odukoya
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The Raging River
The river rages through the land
Cutting the earth with its mighty hand
Digging the canyons across the face of time
Revealing a land that is intertwined
The river brings life as it moves along
The animals drink from it and makes them strong
The river is a roadway, where great boats do ride
The river is mighty and has great pride
The river takes and gives what it sees fit
Many a great tribe stands in awe of it
Even the great river takes time to rest
Knowing it has done it’s very best
There is a raging river flowing through you and me
It cuts through our soul, setting the spirit free
Let the river flow, do not dam it up
Feel the never ending energy, drink from it’s cup
Let your river flow outward and keep in mind
As it cuts through each one, we are all intertwined
poem by L.T. Padgett
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It's a river
When the time keeps passing and the world goes round
and the sea is crashing at the cliffs and the sounds
erupting as the seabirds cry, you can watch the river
as the time goes by
And it's like it's holy and it can be hell
and you feel so lonely and you fear the smell
of the guns that fire then you see the light
of a rainbow dawning and you realise
that the river's flowing as the time goes by
And you met the people and you knew them well
and you said you loved them and you rang the bell
in the tree of life you watched them grow
and the world is turning as the river flows
The earth smells good and the sky turns gold
when the birds are singing and you bless the old
you can kiss your woman and it feels so right
as you touch the river as the time goes by
As you stand barefoot upon the morning shore
and you feel the centuries of death and war
and the wind is biting and it tears your skin
and the river's flowing where its always been
And the river washes and the river's clean
and the soul remembers where the river's been
as you watch it tumble and you watch it flow
your life's a river now you know, now you know
your life's a river now you know.
poem by Charles M. Moore
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Edge of the Water
On the edge of the water
Worrying more than ought to
river reflects back up at me
the water is cool and calm
a peaceful stream
enters my mind
takes over the steering for me
the river floats around a bend
I'm on the mend
with a tree overlooking the river's curve
two birds make a squawk
skim the river's surface together
river boat bells play to set the mood
poem by Ludvig Von Himmelstein
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