Murmur Upon A Self During The Party Meeting Some Unauthentic People On The Row
most of the time
we hide anger
about almost
anything
to anyone
and we say hello
ask
how's life doing
and go to the
details about
their kids
and dogs
and then the conversation
moves on
like a home
pet, a bird, a vine
that we
hang and
see and appreciate
upon all these common
denominators of
i own this one
and i am
happy with what i have
and shall
leave to this earth
layer upon layer
the talk
settles like
we are all the same
but somehow
some rise above the
rights to property
higher
than what the state
can take pride of
as though
this world has no end
as though
this is the only
place
permanent
everlasting
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Seeing a Clearer Me
layer by layer
i peel so that
like a glass
you can view me
crystal clear as a virgin river
a polished diamond
decades of
practice for those
seasoned fingers
to strike at her core
to bring out those few
beethoven scores
he tuned up the world for
a great watch maker
filing his cog to tighten time
the precision of mind
to keep a universal lie at bay
verse by verse
layer by layer
i peel to get to
the sheen the almighty
laid hidden in me
layer by layer
i peel off the world
to see a clearer me
poem by John Tiong Chunghoo
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The Layers Of My Existence
peel me, not like an onion where you shall cry for every
layer, no, i do not require tears here, at most, you may need
only to smile, and then be so patient, as you peel me
layer by layer, as i watch, and as you carefully peel me
with your bare hands, i will allow it, all for you and your
curiousity,
you discover the erotic layer
and in there exists the desire
for an adventure, the disregarding
of sin, and then peel me further
move on,
find the layer of my
intellect, you shall find what i have
told you all about, my nerves and
common sense, my strivings to go
deeper towards my self, and then
peel me further, you see the bone
of my contentions, my hardened
principles and uncompromises
then peel me further, find the
marrow that makes all the blood
of my life, my sorrows and pains,
my exhilarations and bliss and
joys and happiness, and you will
say there is nothing more to find.
you are wrong. There is this last
peel that you cannot see. It is like
air, and it floats and it gets in,
it always finds an empty space,
and you cannot find it there anymore,
it is now inside you and you cannot
get that out of your system
you must accept this:
i have become
an essential part of you, and there is
nothing now that you can do.
you see, in peeling me, you find
no exit anymore. Whether you
you will be happy or sad, it is
already beyond my control.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Thirteen
At first, this is the face I will show you
Shallow, thin, smooth
Then we feel each other, like some kind of
New found friends, I
Take another layer, and tell you, this is my face,
Some scars, and lines of age, and furrows,
Then we write many emails, and remember
Common things, like a certain familiarity,
Another layer is taken and exposed,
The face of a sick man, with some
Disappointments in his mind,
Some wounds, wrinkles, and so you
Think, are there other layers of faces still
To show,
Deeper, deeper is there another layer to show
Another face of this man?
Yes, there is another layer, more faces
Hidden underneath each layer,
As we go on, learning from ourselves,
And me learning from myself,
I will be digging for more faces,
Because I am never static
I am growing, and for each growth
Like molting
Another face comes out
Soon, I hope, I must come out
With the most beautiful face
The we can be both proud of,
It is just a matter of time
Depending on how well you have loved me
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Faces and layers of faces
At first, this is the face I will show you
Shallow, thin, smooth
Then we feel each other, like some kind of
New found friends, I
Take another layer, and tell you, this is my face,
Some scars, and lines of age, and furrows,
Then we write many emails, and remember
Common things, like a certain familiarity,
Another layer is taken and exposed,
The face of a sick man, with some
Disappointments in his mind,
Some wounds, wrinkles, and so you
Think, are there other layers of faces still
To show,
Deeper, deeper is there another layer to show
Another face of this man?
Yes, there is another layer, more faces
Hidden underneath each layer,
As we go on, learning from ourselves,
And me learning from myself,
I will be digging for more faces,
Because I am never static
I am growing, and for each growth
Like molting
Another face comes out
Soon, I hope, I must come out
With the most beautiful face
The we can be both proud of,
It is just a matter of time
Depending on how well you have loved me.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Stardust
sleeping with Rilke,
wrapped in the rain.
attaining the heights
and depths of smallness...
unfolding, unwrapping,
of such is living;
layer upon layer
we discover ourselves
in everything that breathes,
in clouds, trees bent with rain.
in the hollow of the wind
where all is stillness.....
in the ordinary, the common,
we find stardust in a bird's
abandoned nest, in a nail
on the side of the barn...
rusted with time
poem by Eric Cockrell
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what do we do to Mother Earth?
do not burn
let the leaves fall to the ground
let them stay there
layer by layer
heap upon heap
let mother earth
hug all the leaves
let the affection be
strong and heavy
let the leaves die
and rot and become
water and become dust
to dust
let all of us see this dust
we shall do what mother earth
and nature loves best
to dust we shall return
and be its permanent part
close to the bosom
of mother earth
forever
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Property O My Property
property o my property
i use to be a man fine and witty
no cares in the world full of terimity
untill the heavens fell off my dad was murdered
and i was stranded with his property
property o my property
three flats into one, office, home and land what fun
rentals 6% home appreciation by 10%
money in black some in white
o my friends try and understand my plight
property o my property
some say it's worth 50 crs some say it's less
i use to be a free bird before
god knows how i landed up in this mess
brokers, dalla's, buyers and sellers
i have two houses still i am a lonely dweller
property o my property
what the hell to do with you
buy or sell take or give
now my life is not a life but a hell in which i live
property my property
o my dad's property
property o property o my dad's property
my well wishers say i cannot be trusted
to handle all this and i sure will be busted
so my friends you see my situation is dire
it's time like this that i feel i am walking on fire
property o property my dad's property
poem by Anuj Tikku
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That family glaze of common references, jokes, events, calamities-that sense of a family being like a kitchen midden layer upon layer of the things daily life is made of. The edifice that lovers build is by comparison delicate and one-dimensional.
quote by Laurie E. Colwin
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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N4
my theory lives thru
as you have said it: these are all lies
lies and more lies
and you know them all to be lies,
but as you said it,
you begin to understand the truth
beneath these lies
a layer of grass
another layer of flowers
another layer of clouds
beneath is the niche
burying the nuggets of
my own wisdom, how i live my life
and justify it later
before God, shall all lies be
truths
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Life is like an onion: you peel off layer after layer and then you find there is nothing in it.
quote by James Huneker
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Layer by layer art strips life bare.
quote by Robert Musil
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Happy Soul
the happy soul thrives upon its own solitude
feeds upon its happy moments
and looks forward to the happiness
of the other days
it does not think about you and does not listen
to your woes
it has its own rhythm and rhyme
it feels the songs of the wind
it sees the colors of the sphere
layer upon layer it understands
the wisdom of the season
it smells the perfume of the red roses
it dances with the trees
and feels the cool comfort of the grass
it relates to the journey of the rivers
it knows the home of the birds
the words of the worms
the fullness of the beautiful foams
it knows where to rest its weariness
it sleeps and dreams
it does not even care if this world
speaks about an end
there is only bliss there is always nothing to miss
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Everyday I Feel That I Am Slowly Buried
i try to wake up and rise from my lowly state
and every hour that you face me i feel like a small turtle
in my silence beside the still river and you speak and explain
and argue like the wind and the leaves and the clouds
everyday when i am with you i feel like am being buried everyday
layer and layer of sand and pebbles and stones and twigs
and branches and heaps of leaves
i am losing my art of breathing and i am beginning to accept the fact
that you have the capacity to lose me
the world shrinks and the river becomes deeper
the view around me is crowded and dark and i look for you
i call for you and you are no longer there
sometimes i need to redefine love when companionship loses the grip
of hands.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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One difference between God's work and man's is, that, while God's work cannot mean more than he meant, man's must mean more than he meant. For in everything that God has made, there is layer upon layer of ascending significance; also he expresses the same thought in higher and higher kinds of that thought: it is God's things, his embodied thoughts, which alone a man has to use, modified and adapted to his own purposes, for the expression of his thoughts; therefore he cannot help his words and figures falling into such combinations in the mind of another as he had himself not foreseen, so many are the thoughts allied to every other thought, so many are the relations involved in every figure, so many the facts hinted in every symbol. A man may well himself discover truth in what he wrote; for he was dealing all the time with things that came from thoughts beyond his own.
quote by George MacDonald
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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scatter layer
by layer, eight-layered
cherry blossoms!
haiku by Masaoki Shiki
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Onion Skin Disguise
Layer after layer to peel off
Issues, that no longer serve
“No not I”….you may scoff
Then get what you deserve
ROTMS
poem by Ray Lucero
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Peace Beyond Time
wolves run
in packs drinking moonlight,
flesh and blood,
hunger and desire!
i am the wolf,
i am the moonlight,
flesh and blood,
hunger and desire.
the hawk glides,
on the wind with eyes,
peeling layer upon layer
for pulsing treasure...
i am the hawk,
i am the wind,
peeling layer upon layer,
for pulsing treasure.
the river winds
through rocks and trees,
making it's own path,
on the way home.
i am the river,
rocks and trees,
making my own path
on the way home....
darkness falls,
wraps around the light,
brings healing stillness,
and peace beyond time.
i am the darkness,
wrapping around light,
i bring healing stillness,
and peace beyond time!
poem by Eric Cockrell
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The Island That Anger Makes
because the past is rude
and always angry
at me i also learned to be
one like it
it is always the anger that
energizes me
and day by day the anger grows
and spreads to every layer of
my skin
to every nerve
to every cell of my body
i do not look in the mirror
to see my anger that burns me
it will be too
frightening
time knows
it always knows what to do with anger
somehow there is another angle to anger
something that negates it
consuming nature
it makes an island
that is sufficient upon its own resources
it has strong trees
white sandy shores
virginal in its decision for isolation
one day a visitor comes asking to stay
for a while
all it can see is the goodness of the place
the peace of its isolation
the fertility of its
suppression.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Dolce Far Niente
(sweet idleness)
in the near zero visibility
of a winter gaining its momentum
i felt as if i was the only walker
on this winter road
through the thick fog
that insulated me from
the world known and unknown
your desire for me touched me
lifting the fog
layer by layer...
08nov2009
14.44hrs
poem by Indira Babbellapati
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At the center of each human heart is goodness, layered over with hurt, confusion, and mistaken ideas. Our task is to gently peel off layer after layer until the unfettered heart can shed its love upon the world.
Sue Patton Thoele in The Courage To Be Yourself Journal
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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