En.Citatepedia^®.ro

My Venus

cell
moss
fish arising from a
broken shell
less the whiskers
of the cat
a she-goat
rising from the foams
a woman
water body
daisies on your hair
naked
dried by the wind
floating in the sea
the waves take you
to me
i am a lesser god
that you love
i wait
for the making
we shall lie on the sand
to the grass
we are sunflowers
in the sun
and then we wilt
back to earth
in utter silence
of two empty
shells

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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In The River

when the wind finally
drains the water
from the pond when the sun
dries all that is left
of the drops
the fish shall die and
the moss shall wilt and
the crabs and earthworms
shall perish

except the mud and stones
their silence shouts for joy
now is their turn to know
heat and warmth

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Head, Perhaps Of An Angel

limestone, with traces of polychromy, c. 1250

Point Dume was the point,
he said, but we never came close,
no matter how far we walked the shale
broken from California.

Someone's garden
had slipped, hanging itself by a vine
from the cliffs of some new Babylon
past Malibu.

Drowning the words,
the wind didn't fling back in our faces,
the Pacific washed up a shell:
around an alabastron

of salt water for the dead,
seaweed rustled its papers, drying them out,
until it died. Waves kept crashing
into the heart

of each shell
I held to my ear like a phone,
but they were just the waves of my blood.
And through it all

I heard him say,
how could it be nine months ago
his grandson had taken his own life,
somewhere back east?

He was fifteen.
O Pacific, what good is our grief?
Something screamed at the sandy child
who poured seawater

into a hole.
Child, you'll never empty the ocean,
Augustine said. How can I believe?
The wet fist of a wave

dissolved in sand.
Like a saint, a seagull flapped down the beach
in search of something raw—an angel
with an empty pail?

No, a teenage boy,
hands big as a man's, held a sea slug
quaking like an aspic. Under a rock, another
drew into its body

a creature
larger than itself. Live, said Death,
to child and childless alike, indifferently.
I am coming.

poem by Debora Greger
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What for? If only the goat can tell.

O! The silly goat could have been a dove
White and meek
Soundless in the journey to air
Dove to another dove
Satisfied from among its likes
The horns could have been feathers
In a bird’s body

Another completing dove could have waited
Only if the silly goat knew
The transfiguration of its feet to claw
Its whiskers to beak
The goat’s life would have been complete
And fulfilled
But this the silly goat will never know
& learn and untie
& solve the crazy knot
That it has never untangled
Never has he learned from all the ages
Of his grass life
The seeds that the dove peck
And keep on its throat down to its guts
Its tummy

The goat stays
In the open field
Preoccupied with grass
And grass alone
Abiding by the rules of his master
Imprisoned in its cage
To the rules of their games
Suffering
But never understands the same

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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The Old Prison

The rows of cells are unroofed,
a flute for the wind's mouth,
who comes with a breath of ice
from the blue caves of the south.

O dark and fierce day:
the wind like an angry bee
hunts for the black honey
in the pits of the hollow sea.

Waves of shadow wash
the empty shell bone-bare,
and like a bone it sings
a bitter song of air.

Who built and laboured here?
The wind and the sea say
-Their cold nest is broken
and they are blown away-

They did not breed nor love,
each in his cell alone
cried as the wind now cries
through this flute of stone.

poem by Judith Wright
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Me And The Sea

do not expect me to wear
a G-string when i decide to take my swim

i always go naked.
I like always to feel the sea
all over my body

i plunge myself
and feel the nakedness of the sea
too
it's water all over me
all around me

naked sea to my naked body
you know how it feels
it feels like the way we do it
you are the sea
and i am a body
you are a body
and i am the sea

so simple and yet
what a bliss
naked, deep, blue, watery
wet, slippery, salty,
sweat mixed with the salt of the sea
two naked bodies
feeling
salt, earth, sand, fire

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Desert Blues

Cant get no this,
And I cant get no that,
Cant get no you know,
I dont even know where its at.
Aint got the smoke and uh, aint no booze,
Got them low down dried out desert blues, yes I do.
Um, a george carlin said I had to go,
Just what he wanted I did not know,
Im over here dug in so far from home,
Lookin all around try and see whats going on.
I got the sand in my collar,
Got the sand in my hair,
Got it in my pockets,
Got it everywhere.
I got sand in my shirt,
Got it in my shoes,
Got them low down dried out desert blues, yes I do, how how how.
Joined up in the army
Where it was hard to find,
End up over here, got my ass on the line,
But Ill be right here until my work is done,
If I get back home I hope I never see no more guns.
Here across the ocean,
I left some of my good friends behind,
I hope somebodys thinking about me,
Especially that sweet little woman of mine.
Cant get no this,
And I cant get no that,
Cant get no you know,
I dont even know where its at.
Sand in my collar,
Got the sand in my hair,
Got it in my pockets,
Got it everywhere.
I got sand in my shirt,
Got it in my shoes,
Got them low down dried out desert blues,
Yes I do.

song performed by by Allman Brothers Band, music by Dickey Betts, Warren Haynes (1991)
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Fish On The Sand

I know youre in the sun
I know youre close to evryone
At times its like you dont have a hold on me
I see you in the love
I see you in the moon above
But I want to know that youre not lost inside of me
You know I need you
You know I love you
If Im not with you
Im not so much of a man
Im like a fish on the sand
You call me in the night (you call me in the night)
And hide behind the daylight
Youre blowing like a wind, you dont let me see
You know I feel a pain (you know I feel a pain)
Im tired of playing games with you
Though theres nothing else I want that would set me free
You know I love you
You know I need you
If I cant be with you
Im not so much of a man
Im a fish on the sand
No use to no one else, theyve all dried up
Watching all our lives go by
I cant believe youd want to see me crying
I hold you in my heart (hold you in my heart)
I know that youre a part of me
But its a must to know that you love me too
I look you in the eye (look you in the eye)
Youre swimming by my teardrops
But I want to know for sure that youll let me see
You know I want you
You know I need you
If Im not with you
Im not so much of a man
Im like a fish on the sand
You know I need you
You know I love you
If Im not with you
Im not so much of a man
Im a fish on the sand
Not so much of a man
More a fish on the sand

song performed by by George Harrison
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Skimmers

As a boy he used to toss
flat rocks on the water
of the farm dam or nearby lake

watching them skim
over the surface
only touching here and there

and there was some magic
in the leaping
almost right across the water surface.

The wind whirls up tiny whirlwinds
running out before him on the beach,
a lonely boy is tossing shells into the air

which are blown back in a curling flight,
sand hits legs, arms and the body
stinging like sandpaper,

in the distance skimmers are eating from shells
near to green-blue hued pools,
with some flying low over the sea

and he flings his thoughts back to many years,
thinking again and again
about a world that has changed with time

how he changed from an innocent believing child
to the mature successful man
but his life is empty and he is here to find something.

[Reference: Skimmers by Ted Walker.]

poem by Gert Strydom
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Daisies All Over My Body

let daisies rain on
me and let all the daisies
cover my face my body
let daisies crown my head
my hair, my nose, let there
be daisies everywhere
inside, outside me

i am in love.

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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I Am.... (Your Lover)

i am the broken branch,
blown by the wind.
the key left in the door,
of the empty house.
i am the creek spilled over,
the frog on the bank.
the pot stained by time,
half filled with water.
the young woman giving birth,
and the nurse by her side.
the box of canned goods,
left on the porch.
i am the body naked,
sleeping on the silent bed.
the son killed in the war,
the picture on the wall.
i am the softness of the moth,
long left the body.
i am the kiss of lovers,
at the risk of loss.
i am the body of words,
sent without hope or destination.
i am the hand you thought wind,
blowing the hair from your face.
i am try inspite of,
i am hunger expressed.
the tongue round your heart,
the tear that comes unannounced!
i am the face of the lonely,
and the feet of the pilgrim.
i am your lover,
clothed in rain and mud!

poem by Eric Cockrell
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Under The Grass

I look out at you
over the open blue sky
growing dark
when the sun
like an orange
what a ball
it glows red
and turning to you
saying i say
to you
i do not know
the sea
today
how the wind blows
will it blow
for me to speak
it says
and saying you say
as you want
me to say and we stay
salty water
and blowing the wind
blows as it must
my thoughts as the waves
are as small as the fish
swimming about
in between our toes
and swimming they swim
under the grass
as the waves
pull one back out
deep too sea.

poem by Is It Poetry
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A Promise and Clothes of Time

September 9,2010

1.

The first thing to do is burst

My heart, my soul, my mind

The tiny breath of life let blow, let flow

In the sublime gift of sky wind and water

My feet arising from the ocean’s bottom

Will walk the waves of the earth and stones,

The galaxy my playground

I will run in both ends of North and South

East and West, time and dreams

Stars one by one will bounce like twinkles of diamonds

I will come naked -

Playing in the wind,

In the forest dawn till dusk

Sun and moon will be the pins of my hair

Flowers will dance with me

In spring and autumn

And in the summer, its breeze will free

All the kisses I have kept

Through the years,

Those I have saved and endured for you

2.

I still cry

My tears couldn’t stop

They’re like waves that return to the shore

GOD’s watchin’

He saw how I bruised and scarred the planets

And how aliens chained me, when I could have

Exploded cities

Instead of hiding from wars

Guns were out there seizing everything I had

That was you

I haven’t grown

All I wanted was a flower on my hair

And a kite to fly

My only desire was to chant

With waves and tides

With thunder and lighting

I still miss the bones of your hands

Those lips that rocked my ribs

Those gaze that skinned the metamorphosis

Of my flesh

All that was you when your mouth kissed

All that was you in my night fall and

Sweet dawn

All that was

You - inside every atom

That collide dusts of an earth in me

My body molded in the sand and crumbs of history

Would always remember

How we held tightly like twigs on trees,

Veins in heartbeats

Our thoughts,

The sun soaked into water

Immerse brisk

Cone - clouds of generations

Your smell lingers a purple Rose

Of spilled perfume to the Red Sea

Would you leave me or

Take me till death

In different clothes of time

Swearing in faith?

/Rose Flores Martinez
September 17,2010
RoseVoc2

poem by Rosalinda Flores Martinez
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Shall We Be Shut Off?

water on our toes
we look down the minutest detail
of this
wandering

moss and pebbles
sand and
foams
and clouds and
winds

up there
we shall not be shut
like night

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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We, Here

water on our toes
we look down the minutest detail
of this
wandering

moss and pebbles
sand and
foams
and clouds and
winds

up there
we shall not be shut
like night

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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The Surfer

He thrust his joy against the weight of the sea;
climbed through, slid under those long banks of
foam--
(hawthorn hedges in spring, thorns in the face stinging).
How his brown strength drove through the hollow and coil
of green-through weirs of water!
Muscle of arm thrust down long muscle of water;
and swimming so, went out of sight
where mortal, masterful, frail, the gulls went wheeling
in air as he in water, with delight.

Turn home, the sun goes down; swimmer, turn home.
Last leaf of gold vanishes from the sea-curve.
Take the big roller’s shoulder, speed and serve;
come to the long beach home like a gull diving.

For on the sand the grey-wolf sea lies, snarling,
cold twilight wind splits the waves’ hair and shows
the bones they worry in their wolf-teeth. O, wind blows
and sea crouches on sand, fawning and mouthing;
drops there and snatches again, drops and again snatches
its broken toys, its whitened pebbles and shells.

poem by Judith Wright
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Sea-Shells

I gathered shells upon the sand,
Each shell a little perfect thing,
So frail, yet potent to withstand
The mountain-waves' wild buffeting.
Through storms no ship could dare to brave
The little shells float lightly, save
All that they might have lost of fine
Shape and soft colour crystalline.

Yet I amid the world's wild surge
Doubt if my soul can face the strife,
The waves of circumstance that urge
That slight ship on the rocks of life.
O soul, be brave, for He who saves
The frail shell in the giant waves,
Will bring thy puny bark to land
Safe in the hollow of His hand.

poem by Edith Nesbit
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A Body In Empty Shell

I want to keep my head down,
To utter my prayer for us.
Let, fill us with pure light,
Let us be as sober as grass.
The open air, the crystal mind,
The leaves of grass, the dew
From the heaven, the azure sky,
All we need, to worship you!
What's the use of this life,
If innocence does fail?
Will we have fun and frolic,
With a body in empty shell?
We have come to leave footprints,
On the way we always walk.
So that people may follow us,
Our works and our given track!

poem by Nilakshi Das
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On To Something More Concrete

i

i check on the word 'grass'
not in the wikipedia
i check that word outside
i step on the lawn where grass is
i sit upon it and lay my head upon its softness
the grass is cool and comforting
early this morning

ii

i like to check on something more concrete
than what the word signifies
the puffiness of the clouds
the blueness of the skies
the coldness of water
the salt of the sea
how the waves travel and arrive at the shore

i lay my body on the sand
open my eyes to the sky and trace the paths that clouds travel by
i swim to the coldness of the sea and taste with my tongue its salt
i touch the waves
i wait upon the shore and let my hours pass away

iii

this is the earth where i live
where i step upon
it is real, it is never fake
it is as concrete as each word signifies

iv

i speak now to You
Let me thank You for all these
I am alive.

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Blue Queen

One last time I am to suffer in agony for my love of ecstasy
One last time I am to offer myself to the gods of midnights hour.

Fresh death within a cage of flesh is calling
Upon my knees I find my body falling
What elder god's shall bear witness to my sacrifice?
Who shall be the suckling babe upon the blood of the night?
Who shall be the chosen light to shine upon the end of time?

A halo of light surrounding
The memory of life forever grounding
Until we drink and take joy from the river of life’s forgetting.

The prophet and the underground

Upon the shoreline there is a child by the day
Asking questions to all that pass him by,
He seeks the city beneath the waves
He seeks a womb anew within the tomb of the Blue Queen sleeping.
Yet as the moon arises to take reign of the night
His skin sheds from his form and he is the serpent sand,
The movement of the torching dunes, he carries the answers secured within the day realm
And delivers them to the minds of those who dare not ask yet are forever searching.
His lover is the Lady of the Water, and from her sleep within the golden realm she awakes to bless with bliss her lover,
Silver lips, ice blue eyes,

She who is the muse of this shoreline lover, this serpent of midnight sand
Each day the sea is absorbed into the sand
Each day the sand, a thousand shells lost to the movement of the waves slips back unto the sea.

When he is weary of the sun he gathers his possessions - a conch shell a gift from his lover,
a batter hat that keeps the sun from his head and his walking staff decorated with various gifts from the ocean.

The bird his friend is the wind and the wind that carries the waters to the mountains to water the land upon which the man lives,
The man can fly upon the birds back but can not see through its eyes
Where as when the blue queen dreams she sees all that the bird sees

poem by David Lacey
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I Was Not Born To Follow # 2

i am the nail half-bent,
....tossed to the side,
......rusted by the rain.

the body of the young man shot
...left in the streets,
.....the bullet, and the silence.

the trembling hand that lights the pipe,
....and the anger deep inside.
......the young woman giving birth,

the light that screams for darkness.
...the door latch broken
.....on the vacant house,

and the roar of the empty.
...the waves that break the barricade,
.....leaving dead fish on the sand.

the telegram sent,
...the casket, the flag,
.....the mother's tears unspoken.

the ache, the crucifix, the reaching hand,
......the family left 'neath the bridge;
........the orphaned child, the jobless bum,

i was not born to follow!

poem by Eric Cockrell
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