Notes Of Sendong
so most of them are confessions,
like rain confessing to the grass in the sound of
a heavy rainfall
and in so doing, because it did not know how to stop
has caused the mountains to vomit
and the rivers to rise because they too are crying
and letting go the tears of creeks and ponds
and sobbing like ten waterfalls and raging like the sounds of
rocks and mud letting go of their hidden sorrows
and so why are there so many dead floating in the river and covered
by logs and mud?
the rains have confessed about the death of trees
and corruption of the winds
and then the names of men come out
they are the causes of all these sufferings
the innocent residents of the river banks are
the ultimate victims
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Related quotes
When We Meet Again Sometime This Summer
i tell you, i do not like winters, and i do not wish
to go where winter lies. I am intolerant of anything
that freezes me, that thaws, that gives me frost,
that bites like an ant, that solidifies me like
refrigerator ice.
i like summers. Flowers blooming. Green grass
spreading. Butterflies in different colors in the garden.
Bees just enough for the buzz. I love trees. I love
rivers, and springs and creeks.
Bamboo trees beside the rocks beside the pebbles
beside the river. I like the songs of the rivers. Lots of rivers.
Gentle rains. Hush winds. Cool shades. Shadows of mountains.
When we meet again, i like it to be this summer.
Lots of sun. Warmth., Sweat. Perspirations. Palpitations
of the hearts of the young on summer time.
Under the cool shades of the trees on summer nights.
I always remember summer nights.Strong summer winds.
Flown hair. Drying pants and underwears. My legs exposed
Beside the brook. I like being naked. I like being on top of
everything.
With you, on you, by you, within you, in your mouth all over your face.
Oh summer breeze. See you. Feel you. Love you.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
By The River Of Time
by the river of time
no one stands still
the river of time
carries everyone away
on wrinkled creeks
on waterfalls that stop
to fall on rains that
consume themselves
on leaves that crack
to the power of the sun
the river of time drowns
us all to the comfort of oblivion.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Chicken On A Bone
Follow the river wallow in silver
Voices draw nearer counting out the days wish
Letting it out letting it out I'm letting it out
See it so near it seemed so far
Its when you hear its where you are
See it so clear
Making my head spin
Watching the world sing
Holding me under
Try and get a hold son
Letting it out letting it out I'm letting it out
See it so near it seemed so far
Its when you hear its where you are
See it so clear
Pale and wanton dreams forgotten
No use crying I feel like chicken on a bone
See it so near it seemed so far
Its when you hear its where you are
See it so clear
I've got to get a grip
song performed by by Feeder
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
River Death
River was
Running...
With water...
Water are
Nice too
Play with sands...
Trees...
Mountain rocks...
Swmming fishes...
Some time jump
With dive and swime...
Sun was see
Face at river water
Mirror...?
moon was
Click the eye
About
The river....
Animals are swimming
Birds also drinking...
People also
Swmming too
Wash the cloths...
River was
Every day run
Simply not sad...
At rainey time...
At winter time...
Summer time
River not run
Stop to stop
Death the river...
Sky cry...
With rain
Run the river...!
poem by Otteri Selvakumar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
T8
there is a winding river
beside tall mountains
you must know that we have
crossed this river
ten times already
it is the same river
winding through the banks
of these foggy mountains
the tall cogon grasses
can deceive us and so
are the boulders of rocks
that lie along our paths
we are grasping for air
to reach the highest peak of these range
of mountains and valleys and
plains
at the topmost
there we can see the truth and negate
that we can never step twice
on that same river that winds through the hillsides
snake, boa, venomous circuitous foggy paths
damned, we stepped on the same river more than twice
this is the tenth, and this is the highest peak
the world is nothing but a winding snake.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Song: When I Saw The River Rise
With soggy ground across the state,
The rain fell from the skies.
The storm seemed bound to seal our fate,
When I saw the river rise.
We'd built up all our levies,
Yet still we were surprised,
By the height and depth of eddies,
When I saw the river rise.
When I saw the river break it's banks.
Increase in breadth and size.
It came atop of that water-tank,
When I saw the river rise.
Together held fast, from the full weather blast;
We stayed 'cause we thought it wise.
With my partner tasked to do what I asked,
When I saw the river rise.
Just a short drive, she arrived in town,
To pick up more supplies.
A flash-flood found and drove her down,
When I saw the river rise.
The news was bad, I'd lost all that I had;
All that I valued and prized.
More than just sad, I was sure driven mad,
When I saw the river rise.
And I stood there on the paddock gate,
As the tears streamed from my eyes.
And I did not care how long the wait,
For all the help, it came too late,
In shock, in loss of my best loved mate,
When I saw the river rise.
When I saw the river rise.
poem by Dave SmithWhite
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
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
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
The Man Beside Me
now we are sailing on a
bamboo raft
floating on a silk river
bound to the other
side
except for the man
with a long bamboo pole
to touch the floor
and push us more
there is this man
beside me murmuring
his face is covered
by the shadow of his
big straw hat
the natives respect
him thinking that he
is god sent
knowing the words of
the mountain gods
who give them rain
after the drought
he chatters the song
of the cicadas
he murmurs the heaves
of the rain
finally he stops and
hands in the silence
of the rocks
that protrude in the
middle of the river
the waters rise
flood rages on
and i begin to hear
another song
of the incoming storm
then we arrive at the other
side of the river
this time we have become
one in the fold of the
fury asking the protection
of the mountain's belly
the morning news shall
tell about two men who
are fuming the seeds of
discontent of the plains
and the city
we have no names here
just coincidences
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
The Daly River
By those northern river banks,
There in days gone by I wandered,
By clear streaming waters pondered,
Youthful hours were never squandered,
By those sandy verdant flanks.
Saw the rain in torrents falling,
Heard the native dogs there calling,
Saw from sea the rain clouds squalling,
By the Daly river banks.
Born upon a distant range,
All the streams that feed the Daly,
Flowing slow or tumbling gaily,
Come the rains it rises daily,
In a flash the seasons change.
Down the stony gullies creeping,
From the fissured hillside seeping,
Rolling clouds their tears are weeping,
Over all the monsoon's range.
Sheeting over flats and plains,
By the creeks clear waters flowing,
To the raging river going,
As the land the heavens sowing,
Ever heavy fall the rains.
Then at last the gloom is breaking,
Sun asleep in cloud is waking,
Mud upon the flood plains baking,
So at length the wet it wanes.
In its middle reaches flows
Beautiful and clear and gleaming,
By treed sandy banks it's streaming,
With life in its waters teeming,
So it ever onward goes.
Over rocky bar it crashes,
Past the jutting sandbar dashes,
Dancing light in flowing flashes,
Cool but molten - bright it glows.
As the season turns to dry
Slowly flows the Daly river,
Piercing snags in currents quiver,
Sunken trees whose branches shiver,
Where at rest their bodies lie.
There a crocodile is sliding,
Close by muddy bank is hiding,
As the river calmly gliding,
Soft the passing waters sigh.
Soon the river widens more,
There a rolling wave is crashing,
White with foam and spray there splashing,
Sodden banks the torrent lashing,
Upstream runs the tidal bore.
Waters fresh and brackish blending,
Eddies, swirls, and whirlpools rending,
Still the winding river wending,
To the distant ocean shore.
Now the waters grey and wide,
As her heavy heart is flagging,
Wearily her burden dragging,
In her race to broad sea lagging,
Battling the surging tide.
But there spreads the great wide water,
And from there to every quarter,
There's no force on Earth will thwart her,
‘Till whatever fates decide.
poem by Dennis N. O'Brien
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Mountain Peak
We came together on the highest mountain on this earth.
As years went by we separated into rivers
from the tears this mountain cried.
We all fell into different rivers flowing though
forests, rocks, and waterfalls.
No matter what season we came across
we continued flowing.
We are rivers that started in the mountains,
and rivers that separated as we went through
many waterfalls.
Sometimes we travel together,
and other times we travel alone.
Always remember that these same rivers
that travel many miles through the earth
are once again together when it reaches its final destination
the “Ocean”
So, rivers that started up high in the mountains
and then separated are united
again as a family.
poem by Felix Lugo
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Rainfall on the river
Rainfall on the river
~
Sat beneath an old oak tree
Watching the rain fall on the river
The water jumps with every splash
Circles roll out in rippled formation
Interacting only to disappear
And begin again continuous
With the rain still falling
The sound rustles through the air
The sky like an old grey blanket
Thrown across the world
Leaking as far as the eye can see
Patchy and weathered
Beneath the shade of the oak tree
With only a spray of rainfall
Watching the river dance
Ripples and jumps
poem by Matthew Holloway
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
How I Can Smell Like Dusts And Molds....
i take a walk this morning
in this village of trees where there are no houses of
dwellers,
i am looking for a peaceful place as i carry with me a load of some
thoughts heavy on my hair
i do not think that i am being punished with these
i am just trying to take my time
listening to my own footsteps
to the sound of the leaves on those grasses and trees
a river walks along with me
that is how i see it
it is a water traveler wanting a companion
towards a far end
that it knows too well for i am but new here
a lost stranger to his view
a novice of distance
i bring peace in my heart, i have set some pigeons free
my gifts to the balding mountains and to the hills with brown grasses
no pen, no paper, nothing about personal computers or cellphones
no signal, i am satisfied,
i am sucking air, words are carried with it in my nostrils
the river smiles, flows, and winds itself like a snake smooth on the grass
i listen too much, i become this earth
the river winds around my hair, birds are building nests,
the owl sleeps for the night beside my ears,
how peaceful is this place, how foolish had i been for all those years
hiding behind those rooms and rooms of books,
which explains why the river says that i smell nothing but
dusts and molds.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Lorelei
You told me tales of love and glory
Same old sad songs, same old story
The sirens sing no lullaby
And no-one knows but lorelei
By castles out of fairytales
Timbers shivered where once there sailed
The lovesick men who caught her eye
And no-one knew but lorelei
River, river have mercy
Take me down to the sea
For if I perish on these rocks
My love no more Ill see
Ive thought of you in far-off places
Ive puzzled over lipstick traces
So help me god, I will not cry
And then I think of lorelei
I travel far and wander wide
No photograph of you beside me
Ol man rivers not so shy
And he remembers lorelei
River, river have mercy
Take me down to the sea
For if I perish on these rocks
My love no more Ill see
If I should float upon this stream
And see you in my madmans dream
Id sink into your troubled eyes
And none would know cept lorelei
River, river have mercy
Take me down to the sea
For if I perish on these rocks
My love no more Ill see
But if my ship, which sails tomorrow
Should crash against these rocks,
My sorrows I will drown before I die
Its you Ill see, not lorelei
song performed by by Pogues
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
Nature’s call
Over the trees and hill, I wake up alone
I call the name in every wind
When nobody to find, the sound of bird’s crying
Inside the evening glow, I stare at sea of stars
The world is eaten by the dark
When the rain falls, the sound of river’s changed
Under the red sky, I wash my tears
The smell of dew and grass fill my lungs
When I hear your voice, the sound of thunder is distant
poem by Maria Sudibyo
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Is letting go a metaphor?
what is letting go -
letting go of grief?
the serenity of letting go?
(must be a bad metaphor)
losing represents letting go of control
I need to understand this 'letting go'
is it a metaphor for facing the inevitable?
breathing as a metaphor for living
'the practice of pruning wine vines'
is that a metaphor for letting go?
surrender. reaching towards the future
if you'll excuse another bad metaphor...
'the last of the sand is pouring...'
onion metaphors are stripped down to the core
letting go is a metaphor for acceptance
is acceptance a metaphor for failure?
'The freedom of letting go'
that does sound grand
letting go is not for the faint-hearted
my hands and heart are tired from letting go
so many times over
examine why metaphor is not
a substitute for the literal
letting go is
a metaphor
for goodbye
110709
poem by Terri Turrell
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Her Love Still Waves And Weeps!
The river witnessed
The love of couples
Whom found the solitude
Not disturbed by sound
But for the ringing giggle
Of the river that glanced
In shyness at them!
The religion incarcerated
The couples determined
To break barriers of religion
But their souls
In solitary confinement
Sent messages to the winds
That whirl around the cages!
The love was insurmountable
Their will was firm
Like the rock that stood
And survived the test of time!
It was the monsoon fury
That made the river furious
By the incessant shower
And the lives struggled
With hands raised over surface
Wailed to save from death.
He broke the cage
And came out as a wind
And plunged into the rushing
River's inconsolable fury
And brought back
All that struggled with whirl
To the shore of life!
Yet the river ravaged
Pulled him to the bottom
And tears swelled on all
On the banks of the river
As they found he is no more!
She still caged had the word
Of his dissolution of life
Wept but turned herself
As the waves of the river
Where the fathomless heart
Of the river kept him safe
Where he went into ablivion!
Yet the love lost sprout
In every spring at the banks
And the trees showered flowers
To the flowing river
In tribute to a love
That time taken back!
poem by Vadakkumpurath Ramesan
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Our Magical River
At the break of dawn we took a stroll
along the river of tears
It was a wild river, with a glittering current
To take away your fears
The river seems such a magical thing
With the forest set in it's front
Silver streams painted with variable flowers
It was like finding the treasure in a treasure hunt
As we walked beside the flowing river
It's ripples beckoned to us
Sparkling and shining, calling our names
With the sound of lust
Every river has it's beginning
But this one had no end
Merging together like long lost loves
as you come around the rivers bend
We stopped and stood
and stared in awe
At the beauty of the merging rivers
And the love for which we saw
Dianna Nally
and Debbie Wagoner
7/14/09
poem by Dianna Nally
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Tears
Tears, I poured from my eyes
you may have different names in your books.
dew, mirage, moisture, fog, mist, rainbow and rain
Those are mine.
Yoy may have different names
oceans, seas, rivers, streams, brooks and creeks
Yes, those are mine.
Then you may ask why?
I swear you to give an answer,
'because of the fading humanity
I am crying, nobody hear
an inner cry.'
poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Listen
What is that sound?
Like the trailing of a fan
through a silent anteroom?
It is the murmur of air
ruffling leaves.
It is the herald of the whirlwind
which will strip those leaves from their trees
and wrench the trees from the hillside
and blast the soil from the rocks beneath,
leaving the skeleton of the earth
to bleach and crumble.
And what is that sound?
Like a cascade of pearls
on a silver salver?
It is the rushing of the waterfall
in the Italian garden.
It presages the tempest and the raging ocean
which smashes the earth's boundaries
and drives the rivers back up to their sources,
drowning and destroying everything that lives in air.
And what is that sound?
Like the crackle of dry twigs
under the heavy boots of soldiers?
It is the fire in the hearth,
logs spitting, blue and yellow flame dancing
under the granite lintel.
It is the messenger of the Sun
which will rage and burn the planet
to a cloud of incandescent interstellar dust
for the winds of space to disperse forever.
And what is that sound?
High and plaintive
behind the polished nursery door?
It is the crying of a two-day-old baby.
It tells of the heavy tramp of armies
across the continents of the world
marching to the rhythms
of dark gods
bringing the destruction of cities
and the extinguishing of civilisations.
It is the sound of an empty skull
there in the desert,
abandoned by dog and raven,
dry and bleached and splitting along the seams,
home to gusts of wind
and the occasional locust.
These are the sounds of the end of human
endeavour,
the end pages of books,
the silence which silences the symphony.
When the gums shrivel and decay,
the teeth are cracked and broken
and there is to be found no place where the smile
or its shadow has ever been;
no echo of long ago laughter.
This is the sound of eternity.
poem by Brian Taylor
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
The River
The river sways in time with us,
When it is too late the water gets violent;
Angrier, the river aborts the laughter
And fixes the wounds of the mouth.
The river now stays still to adore,
Adoration reminds the river,
Thus the river is caused to behave
And not be aggressive on us.
The real river is upon us,
Deeper rivers find it funny
Why your own ocean is so old.
poem by Naveed Akram
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!