Now Let Us Begin
man if he is true to be man, is more real if he is at first
less of himself, when he is empty, when he is emptied,
when he is emptying. It is like the stomach, you feel it more
when it is empty rather than when it is full
it speaks to you when it is hungry
it grunts
it growls
it even howls
and sometimes it whistles
than when it is bloated with so much food
and wine and desserts.Because in hunger, in the hopelessness
of our state, in the emptiness of our being
we know where we will place
everything.
we will know our dreams, we meet our hopes,
for the first time
we know precisely when to wish,
and where to put them
when we are emptying,
when we are emptied
and now we are sure when we are filling.
let us begin.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Related quotes
I Am Not Afraid Anymore In The Dark
yes, there is nothing to fear in darkness
nothing
is there anyway, nothing to feel in this emptiness emptying itself
like evaporating water into vapor
in space like a bag of dust spreading like feathers
in openness
you feel empty you feel the void wriggling inside your
guts
your mind floating so lightly like a dream in your sleep
like a mist
of the mountain
like a mist
of the green fields early morning
like a mist
floating in an open sea where a man paddles his life on his small wooden sail
be excited as i am excited about you
tipsy
in spirits of the red wine
and feeling so light so empty like a ray of light like a smoke rising from
a cigar
filling the room filling your chest
be excited as i am excited about you
emptying
like a window opening to the skies to see some shooting stars like eyes
gazing to an open ricefield
emptying wondering to so much wisdom now rushing back to you
like a door opening
for an incoming guest
like a crevice of your wall letting in a ray of light telling you
that morning with the sun
is coming
oh be excited as i am excited about you as i watch dawn turning into
day
oh, i am so happy seeing the void expanding
how much can you really hold on the next step after so much void?
oh i am so excited!
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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A Pen Gone Dry
Barren fields…empty places
Mind devoid of idea and rhyme
Sterile imagination…featureless faces
Webs in memories, frozen in time
Fingers flaccid, mind unwilling
Heavy lies this heart of mine
Creative forces not fulfilling
Empty flask of poetic wine
Dried up source of poetic spring
Used up store of poetic phrases
Emptied purse with untied string
Like worn out shoes and old frayed laces
Time away… might grow the field
Time away… might fill the empty places
Perhaps time will let the emptiness yield
To imagination…and full featured faces
Now...inkwell empty
Tear in eye
Pristine paper
Pen... gone dry...
poem by David Whalen
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A Discourse On Essence
i do not wonder why we are empty cups of coffee today
last night the mugs were full of
bubbling beer and the conversations flowed like
spilled beans from a rattan tray
the shadows of the night
they were not illusions
they were real since you touched them with your hands
smelled them and
love every molecule of them all
are we empty because we have been filled and we overflowed
and we simply have to renew our vows
to a divine emptying of ourselves
to become whole again
to start anew
and be humans again?
it is only your head, wrapped with skin, the skull that i feel
when i kiss you
that i have
i want to believe that these are all i have
for the keeping
but that is not at all true
there are still those that remain invisible to my eyes
more important than what you seem to appear
i do not wish to reduce them into a frame
nothing can be boxed
everything has always the capacity to escape
from my hold
from yours too
all these surprises, we wait, we try to grasp
that pain
that we must let go
because they can never be ours
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Houses of Dreams
You took my empty dreams
And filled them every one
With tenderness and nobleness,
April and the sun.
The old empty dreams
Where my thoughts would throng
Are far too full of happiness
To even hold a song.
Oh, the empty dreams were dim
And the empty dreams were wide,
They were sweet and shadowy houses
Where my thoughts could hide.
But you took my dreams away
And you made them all come true --
My thoughts have no place now to play,
And nothing now to do.
poem by Sara Teasdale
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Emptiness Comes
EMPTINESS COMES
Emptiness comes-
There is nothing to say
Nothing to write-
But Nothing is for me only nothing
It is not the goal and the meaning-
Egolessness belongs to saints of a certain kind
I am not a saint-
Emptiness disappears with the writing
Words and meanings come-
I suppose one will be empty forever
When one is alive
What can Emptiness give?
I have written against the Emptiness
And am less empty now for now-
Thank God I no longer feel empty now-
poem by Shalom Freedman
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Into White
I built my house from barley rice
Green pepper walls and water ice
Tables of paper wood, windows of light
And everything emptying into white.
A simple garden, with acres of sky
A brown-haired dogmouse
If one dropped by
Yellow delanie would sleep well at night
With everything emptying into white.
A sad blue eyed drummer rehearses outside
A black spider dancing on top of his eye
Red legged chicken stands ready to strike
And everything emptying into white.
I built my house from barley rice
Green pepper walls and water ice...
And everything emptying into white
song performed by by Cat Stevens
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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How can I empty My Mind?
Came out that emptiness,
Bored of what I was,
Looking at the atom shining somewhere in me,
I looked at wonderful world I entered,
Looking at beauties with beautiful faces,
I was only the faceless,
Wished to have a face!
Result is what I am now,
Facing problems of having a face,
Not seen by myself!
Some say look into mirror,
But mirror showed image which is not me,
How can live this is me looking at image?
In the path I met some one,
They said ' you suffered a lot,
Empty your mind, be happy, '
But how can empty my mind,
So many fill it everyday,
Hungry faces,
thirsty minds,
Needy hands fill compassion,
lusty and greedy, selfish and cruel fill
people fill pain,
Wise one fill wisdom,
Fools fill laughter,
Friends fill it with love and smile!
How can I empty my mind,
When beauty around,
Smiling kids, playing puppies,
Jumping and running kittens,
colourful fragrant flowers,
Surrounded by bees and butterflies,
Green trees with wide hands full of fruits,
All call me to enjoy with them!
Tall standing trees and stubborn mountains,
lakes and oceans full of life,
they fill my mind as much I empty, more they fill!
I emptied mind in meditation,
But the beauty of one who filled beauty in all filled my mind,
How can empty love for that beautiful one,
Who is that beauty in all that's beautiful!
Smiling and loving people,
poem by Ramdas Bhandarkar
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X5
there is a moment
for standing still and
just be here
listening, there is more
to what listening
gives, it is the emptying
of all gas,
it is the shhhhh
of this
existence, it the flat
tire and then
the filling up of all
that is flat and
empty, and then
it goes back
on page one which
has the theme of
moving and
bouncing and
flying and
be lost again to the
greatness of finally
finding the self that is
not actually inside
you....
the wind, the sea and
the width
and the length and
the unending and the
unedited...
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Win A Prize
Run the race and win a prize,
For the food is for the stomach and the stomach is for food;
But i will live on always to see you grow.
Slow, glow, blow, flow;
That which was empty is now full,
But he who joins himself to a prostitute is in one body with her.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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Sunset Heighting Aire
Barley sixteen and half unseen,
Who in battle engaged and never gave up,
When a sunset heights the air,
Tree's swaying, standing bare,
Like in that there,
Place of feelings where-
A sunset heights the are
Half empty filling up the day,
Empty empty full of rays,
A sunset heights the air,
The menacing mighty wind where,
This there place of feelings was,
Half empty, half full.
poem by Rebecca Stansfield
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For The Wounded Womb
There he is like the ocean
Holding an empty shell
Empty shell filled with
God’s food
That every lovable things on earth would live
a day more to taste.
It’s not the food you eat has love
It’s not love you have is adored
Palate of life
We mix it with pain and pleasure.
Tears, sweat, blood…
all ooze out from the vein of Hard work…
How can things unseen and invisible
Can be so true
Can be so rooted
here I see this beautiful earth
everything merged through these invisible forces
like a blind man see the colours of life
and weave his own colour…
red through green, green through blue
burns the angst for not being able to see…
but creates these are the colours he creates…
and lay before us the senses to feel…
Blooming into every man’s beauty
Farer man sing evening songs
We wait for another morning…
I licked through the plate of food
Gulping down my thirst and hunger
Just like a hungry begging human on street
I lived for the food that comes from some distant land
And an unknown lover make it
And an unknown lover taste it
A fistful of food…
Opens her empty hands
She lives
She learns to live
She learns to eat
The passion of eating through
What I yearn to see one day
Your hands feeding a hungry mother
In the corner of a silenced street.
Cuddling the child of love
Heals a mother’s wounded womb…
Here he is like the ocean…
Holding the empty shell
Empty shell filled with
God’s food…
poem by Lovita J R Morang
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nOTHING
around his eyes
shades of black
when it looks at
you it is looking at
nothing
there is no sign of
life in the iris
there is only the stillness
of solitude
there is no whirlpool
of happiness
nothing is taken
nothing is given
there is doubt around each eye
there is that state of
unsatisfied hunger
despite the mountains of food
and lakes of drinks
there is this hunger for hunger itself
a longing eternal
there is this lightness that floats
like a cloud
this unbreakability of a
situation
there is this murmur of the femur
the chant of the brunt
nothing is full
yet nothing is empty still
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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A Heart That Worships
A heart that worships is so emptied
Of fears, of doubts and worrying
It speaks in joy for what God did
In praise and thanks it always sings.
A heart that worships only beats
For God Who handles it with care
In daily prayer it will meet
His Love and Faithfulness there.
A heart that worships is at rest
For God's assurance is His promise
His will for us is always best
Our earthly weariness will cease.
When we feel lost and oh so empty
Our hearts of worship will return
To our God Who is all worthy
With praise and love He'll make us yearn.
............................................. .................................
May 6,2009
Philippines
poem by Cynthia Buhain-Baello
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Indian Delight
It’s Friday night, Saturday Morning
In the middle of December,
It’s minus two and snowing
And I am hungry!
The fridge is empty
Not a stale pizza
Or even tined food in sight
Not a morsel to be had.
I am starving
My empty stomach rumbling
I’ll never get any sleep
But I’m not going out in this nasty weather.
What I thinking,
I’ll ring my local Indian
They’ll deliver any weather,
Any time and
It’s always piping hot.
poem by Khadim Hussain
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The hunger bowl
The one whose ego is hungry
Is poorer than the beggar
Whose stomach is often empty.
The hunger bowl will not expand.
08.10.2008
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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446
You and I
I see a glass
Half empty
And I see your hands
Filling an emptiness
That I have
Invented.
I am empty now
And then
You fill me
Up to the brim
I am overflowing
And here you
Are
In the full blast
Of your lust
That you
Invented
Licking me
From the
Bottom
Beyond the brim.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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You and I together
I see a glass
Half empty
And I see your hands
Filling an emptiness
That I have
Invented.
I am empty now
And then
You fill me
Up to the brim
I am overflowing
And here you
Are
In the full blast
Of your lust
That you
Invented
Licking me
From the
Bottom
Beyond the brim.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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A Literary Method
His poems Riley says that he indites
Upon an empty stomach. Heavenly Powers,
Feed him throat-full: for what the beggar writes
Upon his empty stomach empties ours!
poem by Ambrose Bierce
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Drifting Away
and then the wandering cloud
drifts away
at first the dog on the side of the house
howls like
an old wolf from far away
and then it gets tired too
as it is not a plow
but a bird with bones that break too
on extreme pressure
from the west winds
it is this sense of people leaving you
like thoughts
emptying upon your mind
as normal
as you get old too and then
you begin
to gladly give in
yes, forget....
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Outside
They took away
my money and bag
took away my
house and land
lay me on the sand.
I am here
near ganga
and in empty stomach.
I am here
near mahodadhi
and in empty stomach.
I am here
looking Nilachakra
alldays always
in empty stomach.
They snatch away
may language
They thrown me out
from the sky
they are my nearby.
who is there
outside my house
where is my earth
where is my worth.
poem by Gajanan Mishra
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