My Love...
two eyes
are boats
your face is the ocean
there are
black moons
there is a whirlpool
in your lips
i am this driftwood
sucked
by desire
of your throat
your teeth
are axes
i am
the food to your
soul
and so
you shall
live...
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Trumpet Player
The Negro
With the trumpet at his lips
Has dark moons of weariness
Beneath his eyes
where the smoldering memory
of slave ships
Blazed to the crack of whips
about thighs
The negro
with the trumpet at his lips
has a head of vibrant hair
tamed down,
patent-leathered now
until it gleams
like jet-
were jet a crown
the music
from the trumpet at his lips
is honey
mixed with liquid fire
the rhythm
from the trumpet at his lips
is ecstasy
distilled from old desire-
Desire
that is longing for the moon
where the moonlight's but a spotlight
in his eyes,
desire
that is longing for the sea
where the sea's a bar-glass
sucker size
The Negro
with the trumpet at his lips
whose jacket
Has a fine one-button roll,
does not know
upon what riff the music slips
It's hypodermic needle
to his soul
but softly
as the tune comes from his throat
trouble
mellows to a golden note
poem by Langston Hughes
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LIKE a DRIFTWOOD
Like a driftwood, I am
Floating, drifting to where the rivers flow
Letting where destiny brings me
and where fate lead me through.
Waiting for the time to reach the ocean
Passing through many rivers though
Bumping on the rocks, I'm in vain
Splashing, circling like tornado too.
Going back, I cannot do
But to continue going, floating, like a mess
Leaving the way I'm passing through
To the ocean, I will find my rest.
Like a driftwood, in the beach i lay
Waiting for my fate, what my fate would be
For like driftwood i didn't know
Will my fate still continue this way?
As long as I live, like a driftwood my life is
I can do nothing, nothing unless
raise my head towards the heaven
and offer to God myself and everything
For without Him, I am nothing.
_mai_
29Oct08
poem by Maia Padua
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Children Of Hunger
Waves of sound,
as the children look around.
Hope is needed,
no food to be found.
tears wet there lips,
as food arrives from the ships.
fighting to live,
to much trouble and greed,
to lazy to give,
water sucked out of weeds.
fighting to live.
no child deserve this,
please help,
help these children live.
poem by Joe Foster
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Beauty is not in colours
Black hair is nice, but not black teeth.
White teeth are nice, but not whit hair.
Red lips are nice, but not red eyes.
Black eyes are nice, but not black lips.
Beauty is not in colours;
Beauty is in the concepts.
25.05.2012
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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Hearts First Word. I.
To sweeten a swift minute so
With such rare fragrance of sweet speech,
And make the after hours go
In a blank yearning each on each ;
To drain the springs till they be dry,
And then in anguish thirst for drink ;
So but to glimpse her robe thirst I,
And my soul hungers and I sink.
There is no word that we have said
Whereby the lips and heart arc fire;
No look the linked glances read
That held the springs of deep desire.
And yet the sounds her glad lips gave
Are on my soul vibrating still ;
Her eyes that swept me as a wave
Shine my soul's worship to fulfil.
Her hair, her eyes, her throat and chin-
Sweet hair, sweet eyes, sweet throat, so sweet,
So fair because the ways of sin
Have never known her perfect feet-
By what far ways and marvellous
May I such lovely heaven reach ?
What dread, dark seas and perilous
Lie 'twist love's silence and love's speech?
poem by Isaac Rosenberg
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O Naughty Child..! [Part-3 ]
[PART-3 ]
Whenever you eat,
Demand my presence
In close proximity-
Command to close my eyes-
O.. God only knows
How much I toil
Prior to a palmful food
Reaching shores of your mouth!
' Surprise ' lightnings
Should silver my face!
Thunders of ' aa.haas ' and ' oh.hos '
Must crumble on my lips!
Body whole must
Bounce like a ball!
Mind you ever
My tiring self?
Obey You; I must
With no contortion whatsoever!
If not....
All the food you shall spoil
And seed it all over the street!
Regular dishes
Ever you dislike!
Certainly meals moments-
Crazy times for us both!
Exhaustive drills and strolls
Then you schedule-
Leaving me stranded
With defeated food!
My throat creaks
In constant cawing-
My legs ache
In shadowing behind
To safeguard you
From imminent falls -
My eyes pain
Awaiting the moment precise
To thrust food balls
Past your unwilling lips-
' Burr...rring 'tongue
And twisting face,
Ending up in smearing
Your mango cheeks!
My patience dries
Like food on my fingers!
Oh..is it a spectacle
Can anyone miss?
At this ordeal's end
Thoroughly exhausted
I find finishing off
Much of your meals!
poem by Sundaram Chandrakalaadhar
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Once More—To Gloriana
Girl with the burning golden eyes,
And red-bird song, and snowy throat:
I bring you gold and silver moons
And diamond stars, and mists that float.
I bring you moons and snowy clouds,
I bring you prairie skies to-night
To feebly praise your golden eyes
And red-bird song, and throat so white.
poem by Vachel Lindsay
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To Gloriana
Girl with the burning golden eyes,
And red-bird song, and snowy throat:
I bring you gold and silver moons,
And diamond stars, and mists that float.
I bring you moons and snowy clouds,
I bring you prarie skies to-night
To feebly praise your golden eyes
And red-bird song, and throat so white.
poem by Vachel Lindsay
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The Seal
The ocean cold is it's home
Swimming all day it's livelihood
Slick fur black and mottled
Tossing and turning beneath the salty waves
Dark eyes glossy as chrome
Rolling and playing, making waves and foam
Laying in the sun on a raft of driftwood
Amongst the forest of seaweed they mingled
Exploring every nook of of a sea-cave
The ocean wide it's free to roam
poem by Benjamin Louter
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Degradation of a race
Black hair, black skin, black eyes,
Square face, square teeth, square chin,
Fleshy breasts, fleshy back and fleshy lips
Are features of Dravidian descendents.
Pale hair, pale skin, pale eyes,
Long face, long teeth, long nose,
Thin chest, thin locks and thin lips
Are features of Aryan descendents.
The former is flesh eating, lustful,
Emotion ridden and industrious.
The latter is grass-eating, lust tamed,
Manoeuvring and goal conscious.
Siva, Parvathi, Kali with Asuras
Are portrayed with Dravidian features.
Rama, Krishna, Lakshmi, Sarasvathi
With devas are of Aryan features.
All Itikas, Puranas and Epics depict thus.
They are held as holy scriptures
By both the races alike.
08.10.2000, Paralkemundi
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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Paper Boats
Day by day I float my paper boats one by one down the running
stream.
In bid black letters I write my name on them and the name of
the village where I live.
I hope that someone in some strange land will find them and
know who I am.
I load my little boats with shiuli flower from our garden, and
hope that these blooms of the dawn will be carried safely to land
in the night.
I launch my paper boats and look up into the sky and see the
little clouds setting thee white bulging sails.
I know not what playmate of mine in the sky sends them down
the air to race with my boats!
When night comes I bury my face in my arms and dream that my
paper boats float on and on under the midnight stars.
The fairies of sleep are sailing in them, and the lading ins
their baskets full of dreams.
poem by Rabindranath Tagore
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Call Of Love
I walked towards the ocean
As she began to roll and began to roar
Then she put in in a daze, I remembered today
As I thought of a woman, that I knew once before.
Her eyes where as deep as the ocean
Her soul as loving as the ocean is blue
Her skin as white, as the sand that night,
A statement, was never as true.
The breeze then went through my hair
As though as a woman was standing there,
She then touched my heart and kissed my lips,
At the ocean, I just stood and stared.
The ocean then took itself a form
Was a form to set myself and soul free
So then I closed my eyes and I fantasized
And then I accepted the ocean, inside of me.
Randy L. McClave
poem by Randy McClave
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The Black Sea
In the term of office we call the presents of festivals,
The black sea is offended by the great sea,
As of this moment it is angered from above,
It is the black problem we are against.
Fulfilling satisfaction has taken a nuisance
By telling tales of the black ocean with its blue,
And we more than one know swimmers of scent
And merciful are the boats on the surface.
The blood is tidy, we are intelligent,
As much as gold mixed with diamond,
Like the black ocean and blue sea,
As hard as the concrete of shelter.
poem by Naveed Akram
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Paint My Life
let me at least choose
the colors
red for love
blue for my sorrow
gray for my confusions
do not draw me in
bold strokes
for i was never brave
do give me crooked
lines
minimize the straight ones
my eyes are two moons
my feet are trees without roots
my face the sun
its rays my hair
my whole body
a driftwood
my moles be islands
my hands are branches
without leaves
praying to the sky
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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It Is Too Wide And Huge
it is too huge and wide
and my arms cannot embrace it
my soul leaps my heart begins to have lips
to sing
my wings growing behind my shoulders
as though
i have become an angel
pure and ample
it is the world of my dreams
my tongue salivates
my hands tremble anticipating the fulfillment of desire
i close my eyes
and i become too near
unconfused
too sure of what i must become
a mountain beside the caressing winds
and clouds
and sun
too bright, too wide too huge
star unreachable but too gentle to my gaze
that is what is love all about
(how can i ever grasp its body, how can i ever restrain its soul?)
that is what is my love for you all about
my lips wet, my teeth gritting, my eyes limping
my groins grinding.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Bianca
Her cheeks are hot, her cheeks are white;
The white girl hardly breathes to-night,
So faint the pulses come and go,
That waken to a smouldering glow
The morbid faintness of her white.
What drowsing heats of sense, desire
Longing and languorous, the fire
Of what white ashes, subtly mesh
The fascination of her flesh
Into a breathing web of fire?
Only her eyes, only her mouth,
Live, in the agony of drouth,
Athirst for that which may not be:
The desert of virginity
Aches in the hotness of her mouth.
I take her hands into my hands,
Silently, and she understands;
I set my lips upon her lips;
Shuddering to her finger-tips
She strains my hands within her hands.
I set my lips on hers; they close
Into a false and phantom rose;
Upon her thirsting lips I rain
A flood of kisses, and in vain;
Her lips inexorably close.
Through her closed lips that cling to mine,
Her hands that hold me and entwine,
Her body that abondoned lies,
Rigid with sterile ecstasies,
A shiver knits her flesh to mine.
Life sucks into a mist remote
Her fainting lips, her throbbing throat;
Her lips that open to my lips,
And, hot against her finger-tips,
The pulses leaping in her throat.
poem by Arthur Symons
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Apprehension
before the rain
there was this gray cloud
it was that sad
it was before you cried
that sticks in my memory
the tweezers
those lines on the face
the twisting lips
the horror in the eyes
and then it rained
and the bridge collapsed
the waters rushed
bringing all the driftwood
and the boas.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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A Song
Lord, when the sense of thy sweet grace
Sends up my soul to seek thy face.
Thy blessed eyes breed such desire,
I dy in love’s delicious Fire.
O love, I am thy Sacrifice.
Be still triumphant, blessed eyes.
Still shine on me, fair suns! that I
Still may behold, though still I dy.
Though still I dy, I live again;
Still longing so to be still slain,
So gainfull is such losse of breath.
I dy even in desire of death.
Still live in me this loving strife
Of living Death and dying Life.
For while thou sweetly slayest me
Dead to my selfe, I live in Thee.
poem by Richard Crashaw
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If You Are My Food Spread On The Table
granting arguendo
my dear beautiful girl
that you are my food for dinner
what shall i take first?
your lips, oh, i love delicious lips
sweet lips, wet lips and tight lips, and
gripping lips to my lips
then your eyes
so i can enter your soul
these windows that cannot close
someone so lovely and loving you
as i try to be this air
invisible and yet so essential
to your being
i shall take every flesh in you
and every bone and every nerve
but there is one thing i shall not attempt to take
away from you
your heart, you may not tell me, but i know
it already belongs to someone else
in respect for true love
i shall leave it there
breathing, wishing, and still loving....
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Lovers In Arms
Passion explores
New avenues of the soul
Bringing with it fire
Burning lips kiss
Hot breath embracing
Each sensual touch
Lovers in arms
Moving in the night
A dance of desire
A serenade of passion
Eyes hold firm
Another’s longing gaze
Teeth bite against lips
A faint taste of blood
A racing heart
Telling its own tale
Where lovers in arms
Lay in the night
poem by Matthew Holloway
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