Morning Compromises
breakfast is heavy on the
table
you only pick a cookie
and take
a sip of coffee
then you watch a part
of TV's morning news
then you leave without a
note of where you are going
you lock the door of the house
and the windows too
the dog stays with a neighbor
the car engine starts
you drive on a compromising idea
you will be back
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
Early Morning Snore
It starts of just before four am
with a put, put, put of an old Volkswagen,
and then descended into
a motorcycle engine on idle
with a tick-a-tick-a-tick
before revving up a notch
into an motorcycles engines roar.
Hence, my other half was at it again
with her early morning snore.
Like everyone, she denies that she ever snores.
Each morning like a regular alarm clock,
she starts her snoring engine
and I quickly vacate the bed,
it is my only escape to peace,
away from a motorcycle engine
roaring inches from my head.
One day I got out my portable Dictaphone
and started recording her,
when I played it back
she said I had recorded out in the street somewhere.
Now I am an early riser,
and who wouldn’t be
with a motorcycle engine roaring
just inches away from your ear.
12 December 2009
poem by David Harris
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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On Making Mistakes
now, i too have learned to live with mistakes.
i have accepted the idea that mistakes
sometimes come uninvited in the house of our own
imperfections
you comment that this should have been that
a post here and less light over there
a rug is better neutral in color
a bird should not be caged
and i listened carefully to every advise that you make
i nodded you have better ideas and i assured you
that i always take note of what you say,
and then when the party is over
and when all of you leave and i am left alone
i stand beside the door waving my hand
letting all of you go, and saying
take care, God bless us all, and have a nice trip back home,
i heave a sigh and goes back to the place where we were seated
i put my hands back on the table with left overs
and ponder upon every conversation and then i look around
for all the imperfections around me and i tell myself:
there shall be no change.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Caring Less For The Loquacious
seated, formal, behaved,
and stopping to read the
morning paper,
the tv is on for the
usual morning news,
the cup of coffee is on
the breakfast table,
the usual rice and sunny
side up fried egg
and dried fish to
with your wish for
the wholesome thing,
salt and sugar and
something sour
like a piece of
lemon to accentuate
your need for a variety,
in front is a woman with
curly hair, big earrings like
a mystic,
she speaks in crystal ball
reminding you
of your inevitable
pain in the future,
you are her slave and
you listen,
though you are not
interested,
(shit, shit, you have these
words hammering in
your mind)
finally, you take a glimpse
of her mouth,
they look like scissors,
her nose looks like
a wrench,
she looks older
than you think,
cranky like an old
rice mill,
you like to get rid
of her,
you know this woman,
her name,
and her being a
part of you
even for life,
you create a certain distance
like Mars and Pluto,
farther away, you settle on
the orbit of earth,
this marble planet, known
for its coolness
and tolerance for
evil.
you're not quitting,
you love that dragon inside
your hot, creamy coffee,
and then you smile, and tell yourself,
after she had spoken
her piece,
it is a beautiful day
it is a real beautiful life out there.
you step inside your car, drive for work,
and let life manage your life somehow.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Dear Goodfew, Regarding the Poems I Sent
Don't worry about reading them.
If good enough they will keep.
If bad they will linger like old garbage
placed outside a neighbor's door
in the middle of the night only to
wrap tightly around when opening
a morning door to leave for work,
pushed back, turned off, sour,
5 flights of breathless descent
cursing the occupant in 5A.
The front door slams behind.
Stepping into sunlight and shadow
the day is won, has worn away the
mal-odors of morning. Burn now
instead to live, to leave a strong
rot when put out a lover's door
because of laziness,
a partial rejection hung upon a knob.
poem by Warren Falcon
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The Spider As My Analogy For You
the black spider
with a yellow mouth
and invisible tongue
early in the morning
on the jack-fruit tree
webs its house, so
beautifully transparent
against the sun
it is art and functional
at the same time
a house of beauty
and a trap for prey
a fly is trapped and
breakfast is ready
at the center table of
its creation
full, the spider basks
in the rain as i watch it
still thinking about you
and your house of lies.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Chaffeur
Out on the tar plains, the glides are moving
All looking for a new place to drive
You sit beside me, so newly charming
Sweating dew drops glisten, freshing your side
The sun slips down bedding heavy behind
The front of your dress all shadowy lined
And the droning engine throbs in time
With your beating heart
Sing Blue Silver
Way down the lane away, living for another day
The aphids swarm up in the drifting haze
Swim seagull in the sky towards that hollow western isle
My envied lady holds you fast in her gaze
The sun slips down bedding heavy behind
The front of your dress all shadowy lined
And the droning engine throbs in time
With your beating heart
Sing Blue Silver
And watching lovers part, I feel you smiling
What glass splinters lie so deep in your mind
To tear out from your eyes with a word to stiffen brooding lies
But I'll only watch you leave me further behind
The sun slips down bedding heavy behind
The front of your dress all shadowy lined
And the droning engine throbs in time
With your beating heart
Sing Blue Silver
song performed by by Duran Duran
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I Step Out Of The Door
i step out of the door
from my dark room the windows are not opened
it is humid
it is cold
and i step out of the door the windows still closed
i lock the door and step upon a patch of green grass
the dews are hanging on the blades
and shaken
i look upon a sky
and there is this star still shining despite the opening of the
mouth of the morning
after a deep sleep
i see your face but i promise there shall be no tears.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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She Is In Love
she is in love, how can i not notice it?
she wakes up early, goes into her garden
and sings a beautiful song, very early this morning.
she waters her roses, and feeds the chickens.
she cooks breakfast. The eggs are fresh.
The meat well cooked and so tasty.
The coffee smells the aroma of coffee.
What else?
The room is clean, the kitchen so well kept.
My polo shirt is ready, my socks, handkerchief,
my underwear, my shoes, my tie, they're all
placed on bed for me to wear today.
The room smells with perfume
Her favorite, Victoria's secret.
She kisses me twice now, and another one
before i leave.
Life is beautiful, she repeats it again and again.
She stays in the house now. No travels this time.
No loafing with friends.
Tell me that i am conceited.
She is still in love with me. Now on our 12th year of marriage.
I look again at our wedding ring. The tiny diamond there still glitters.
Against the sunlight. Against all the odds.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Breakfast In Malaysian Stalls
Listening to the radio DJs,
Driving through the traffic
This match is quite all right,
When these guys poke fun,
At one another and with public,
The sun is just awake,
Chasing the darkened thoughts,
Bright yellow spike, so soft,
The arrival of another morning,
As the windows start to open,
To allow the fresh air in,
The smell of freshly brewed coffee,
Fragrant coconut rice with fried anchovies,
Sliced cucumber, sambal and egg,
That is served under the cool trees.
The early birds drive to these haunt,
To have their breakfast,
Under the pleasant sun,
The breeze move around them,
To bring the heaven to earth,
Young and old, rich and poor,
Everyone wants to sit in the open air,
To have their breakfast and dinner,
On this land, where my mother was born,
poem by Veeraiyah Subbulakshmi
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Drive In, Drive Out
Say, all you sisters and brothers
All matters if I divide us so
Our own political words they ponder us so...
This side, that side
Right, wrong... driving me back
Drive in drive out, Im leaving
I come back again
Im leaving...
Hell has its own place, we carry on....
Well, everyone sit inside, watch whats going on
Well, as you will drive in, and drive us apart.
Dont trust words that delight us or
Get into my heart... yeah....
Ohh ah ah leah ho... I run away, run away
Run away guy, run away guy,
Run out, run out...
You and me sister, sometimes I feel you figure it all out.
You and me sister, oh, weve got it right.
Our differences, differences, mother and in cold life,
Why must I steadfast, stand by what I think is right?
Oh drive in drive out, Im leaving
Drive in drive out, Ill come back again
Drive in drive out, Im leaving
Hell has a place for everyone, its here: alone.
Oh, the devil hes not hiding underground, hes waiting by your front door
Well, tv men take you away, rock up your world
Too many wont leave you alone, drive you alone
Man, when Im going back again, light in some peace....yeah...
song performed by by Dave Matthews Band
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Twelve
a woman in an early morning sweeping some trash
away from the house
a heap of garbage
thrown on the road for the garbage truck to pick it up...
whistles her way inside the house
locks the gates
enters the door
and opens all the windows of the house
meeting a brand new day
filled with warm sunshine
and cool air breathings
from the yard's green trees.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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A Repost Of The Past Poem
i step out of the door
from my dark room the windows are not open
it is humid and cold
i step out of the door the windows are still closed
i lock the door and step upon a patch of green grass
the dews are hanging on the blades and shaken
i look upon the sky
and there is this star still shining
despite the opening of the mouth of the morning
i was in deep slumber
i close my eyes
i see your face but i promise there shall be no tears.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Cycle Of My Life
wake up in the morning
remembering some dreams
take a walk in the oval
and come back for breakfast
then take a bath
dress myself
then go to the office for work
the whole day is spent
within the walls and closed glass windows
then come back for home
eat dinner
pray and sleep to bed
dream and at dawn have little sex
with wife
and sleep again and wake up in the morning
and take a walk and take breakfast and
back to the office again.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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We Dont Live Here No More
Make believe your on a boat with no water around.
Picture yourself at a circus, without any clowns.
Pretend that youre on a highway, without any end.
Then empty the ashtray,
Sweep up the floor,
Put a lock on your door.
If somebody calls in the morning,
Just say we dont live here no more.
Draw me a picture of an island without any seas.
Show me a map of the whole world without boundaries.
Build me a home without windows or doors to go in.
Then empty the ashtray,
Sweep up the floor,
Put a lock on your door.
If somebody calls in the morning,
Just say we dont live here no more.
-----
Dream of a time when the tides ebbing now rise again.
Then you will know that to die is not really to end.
Living and dieing are both your most intimate friends.
So empty the ashtray,
Sweep up the floor,
Put a lock on your door.
If somebody calls in the morning,
Just say we dont live here no more.
If somebody calls in the morning,
Just say we dont live here no more.
song performed by by John Denver
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Breakfast Is Ready
(7: 45 in the morning)
to choose between a
hot breakfast ready on the table
and finishing another poem
i choose the breakfast
together with my wife
this poem can be suspended
in time
and become another unfinished
act of creation
by a man wanting to fill this
world with poems
after a while
when i have my fill and when
i make some nice conversations with my wife
and my dog beside the table
looking at me
for a piece of fried pork
when the sipping of coffee is over
when i finally wipe my
chin with the sky blue napkin
when i consider
eating as finally over
as promised
i will come back again
and finish this poem
and there is something
nice in this
act of creation
you feel it
it is warm like the hand of
a beautiful woman
it is as hot as ever
like this wanton desire
lovely,
as lovely as you love each letter
of the word
of your poetry
i am feeling it in the bone
of my soul
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Red House
Note: this is a diffrent version of red house than on the are you experienced? album. the lyrics are much the same but jimi's guitar is a lot diffrent.
Yeah
Yeah
There's a red house, over yonder
That's where my baby stays
Yeah
There's a red house over yonder, baby
That's where my baby stays
I ain't been home to see my baby
In about a ninety-nine and one half days
It's about time to see her
Wait minute something's wrong
This key won't unlock this door
Wait a minute something's wrong, baby
The key won't unlock the door
Yeah
I got a bad bad feeling
That my baby don't live here no more
She ain't comin' about is she
That's alright i still got my guitar
Look out baby
Yeah, look out
Yeah that's alright
Yeah haha
I might as well a go on back down
Go back across yonder over the hill
Might as well go back over yonder
Way back over yonder across the hill
That's where i came from
Cause if my baby don't love me no more
I know here sister will!
Yeah
song performed by by Jimi Hendrix
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Clothes Line
After a while we took in the clothes,
Nobody said very much.
Just some old wild shirts and a couple pairs of pants
Which nobody really wanted to touch.
Mama come in and picked up a book
An papa asked her what it was.
Someone else asked, what do you care?
Papa said, well, just because.
Then they started to take back their clothes,
Hang em on the line.
It was january the thirtieth
And everybody was feelin fine.
The next day everybody got up
Seein if the clothes were dry.
The dogs were barking, a neighbor passed,
Mama, of course, she said, hi!
Have you heard the news? he said, with a grin,
The vice-presidents gone mad!
Where? downtown. when? last night.
Hmm, say, thats too bad!
Well, theres nothin we can do about it, said the neighbor,
Its just somethin were gonna have to forget.
Yes, I guess so, said ma,
Then she asked me if the clothes was still wet.
I reached up, touched my shirt,
And the neighbor said, are those clothes yours?
I said, some of em, not all of em.
He said, ya always help out around here with the chores?
I said, sometime, not all the time.
Then my neighbor, he blew his nose
Just as papa yelled outside,
Mama wants you t come back in the house and bring them clothes.
Well, I just do what Im told,
So, I did it, of course.
I went back in the house and mama met me
And then I shut all the doors.
song performed by by Bob Dylan
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Drive-in
Ooo wah
Ooo wah
Everytime I have a date theres only one place to go
Thats to the drive in
Its such a groovy place to talk and maybe watch a show
Down at the drive in
Forget about the plot, itll do very well
But make sure you see enough so youre prepared to tell
About the drive in
(ooo wah)
I love the drive in
(we love the drive in, we love the drive in)
If the windows get fogged youll have to take a breath
(oooooooo waah oooo)
Down at the drive in
(wah wah ooooooo)
Or the cat dressed in white will scare you both to death
Down at the drive in
A big buttered popcorn and an extra large coke
A few chili dogs and man Im goin broke
Down at the drive in
(ooo wah)
Yeah at the drive in
(we love the drive in, we love the drive in)
Dont sneak your buddies in the trunk cause they might get caught
By the drive in
(wah wah wah ooooooo)
And theyd look kinda stupid gettin chased through the lot
(wah ooooooo)
Around the drive in
If you say you watch the movie youre a couple o liars
And remember only you can prevent forest fires
Down at the drive in
(ooo wah)
I love the drive in
(we love the drive in, we love the drive in)
Down at the drive in
(ooo wah)
I love the drive in
(we love the drive in, we love the drive in)
Down at the drive in
(ooo wah)
I love the drive in
(we love the drive in, we love the drive in)
song performed by by Beach Boys
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Broke Down Engine
1. feel like a broke-down engine, aint got no drivin wheel,
Feel like a broke-down engine, aint got no drivin wheel.
You all been down and lonesome, you know just how a poor man feels.
2. been shooting craps and gambling, momma, and I done got broke,
Been shooting craps and gambling, momma, and I done got broke,
I done pawned my pistol, baby, my best clothes been sold.
Lordy, lord, lordy, lord, lordy, lord, lordy, lord,
Lordy, lord.
3. I went down in my praying ground, fell on my bended knees,
I went down in my praying ground, fell on my bended knees,
I aint cryin for no religion, lord, give me back my good gal please.
4. if you give me back my baby, I wont worry you no more,
Give me back my baby, I wont worry you no more,
Dont have to put her in my house, lordy, just lead her to my door.
Lordy, lord, lordy, lord, lordy, lord, lordy, lord,
Lordy, lord.
5. cant you hear me, baby, rappin on your door?
Cant you hear me, baby, rappin on your door?
Now you hear me tappin, tappin across your floor.
6. feel like a broke-down engine, aint got no drive at all,
Feel like a broke-down engine, aint got no drive at all.
What make me love my woman, she can really do the georgia crawl.
7. feel like a broke-down engine, aint got no whistle or bell,
Feel like a broke-down engine, aint got no whistle or bell,
If youre a real hot momma, come take away daddys weeping spell.
song performed by by Bob Dylan
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Another Day
having the low down blues and going
into a restraunt to eat.
you sit at a table.
the waitress smiles at you.
she's dumpy. her ass is too big.
she radiates kindess and symphaty.
live with her 3 months and a man would no real agony.
o.k., you'll tip her 15 percent.
you order a turkey sandwich and a
beer.
the man at the table across from you
has watery blue eyes and
a head like an elephant.
at a table further down are 3 men
with very tiny heads
and long necks
like ostiches.
they talk loudly of land development.
why, you think, did I ever come
in here when I have the low-down
blues?
then the the waitress comes back eith the sandwich
and she asks you if there will be anything
else?
snd you tell her, no no, this will be
fine.
then somebody behind you laughs.
it's a cork laugh filled with sand and
broken glass.
you begin eating the sandwhich.
it's something.
it's a minor, difficult,
sensible action
like composing a popular song
to make a 14-year old
weep.
you order another beer.
jesus,look at that guy
his hands hang down almost to his knees and he's
whistling.
well, time to get out.
pivk up the bill.
tip.
go to the register.
pay.
pick up a toothpick.
go out the door.
your car is still there.
and there are 3 men with heads
and necks
like ostriches all getting into one
car.
they each have a toothpick and now
they are talking about women.
they drive away first
they drive away fast.
they're best i guess.
it's an unberably hot day.
there's a first-stage smog alert.
all the birds and plants are dead
or dying.
you start the engine.
Anonymous submission.
poem by Charles Bukowski
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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