Of Practical Means...
for those that come
i am ready
not only to embrace
its whole body
but also to explain
the necessity of
its parts that i too must
accept and love, thus
when i cannot see the stars
tonight
i accept that this happens
often
because
some heavy clouds are here
and they need
to drift and
release their
burdens
and soon it will rain
and all the thirsty fields of the
earth are craving
for water
from the heavens
for their satiation
i have known rain
and it does not surprise me
in these cold times
of my life
& if ever
another big flood comes along
this winding river
carrying drift wood
and mud
and carcass of some
wild pigs and
wingless birds
i still must respect
what nature is all
about
its way of cleansing
itself
& then
on a calm morning
after the storn
i busy myself
collecting all these
drifted things
thinking that perhaps
early tomorrow
i can construct the
bridge of my dreams
or that house
where my new hope
must
immediately reside
poem by Ric S. Bastasa

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Drift Away
Drift away, just drift away
Sometimes I wish I could just drift away
They say theres gonna be a river of blood
Its apocalypse now
So were waiting for the flood
The ice is gonna melt, the water gonna rise
And well all go to hell
So theyre keeping us advised
While the dollar falls down
The yen gonna climb
Its a moral decline
And Im losing my mind
I think Ill just drift away
To that island of my dreams
Live in total fantasy
Close my eyes and drift away
Back in the real world
Theres tension everywhere
And the smell of fear
Keeps hanging around and polluting the air
The man on the news is going over the top
Now hell say anything so his show dont flop
Wall streets down, so what
And according to astute market analysis
The worlds gonna stop
They shout the story to the nation
Pass on the panic to the population
This is the end of civilization
Its all over now
Chorus:
Meanwhile, I just drift away
To my island in the sun
Imaginary paradise, perfection
Sometimes I wish I could just drift away
Drift away (drift away)
Drift away (drift away)
Drift away (drift away)
Now all the politicians are running out of hope
Theyve burned all their bridges
Now they just cant cope
And who do we blame now were all going broke?
Its that man over there
Whos hanging from a rope
Newsmen winding up the nation
A little bad news helps circulation
Pass on the panic to the population
Its all over, its all over
Its all over now
Times like this, I just drift away
To my tropical fantasy
Living on coconuts growing on the trees
Sometimes I wish I could just drift away
Drift away, drift away, drift away
Its apocalypse now, drift away
Rivers of blood, drift away
And the man on the news is going over the top
Chorus
song performed by by Kinks

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Rain oh Rain
Rain oh Rain
When will thy come to wash my pain?
Rain oh Rain
I have been in tears all day
Rain oh Rain
Please do not go far away
Rain oh Rain
Release thy fresh water upon me
Rain oh Rain
Melt the ice and make me chill
Rain oh Rain
Wet the earth and make it plant bloom
Rain oh Rain
Let thy freshness embrace the earth
Rain oh Rain
Make me happy and filled with joy
Rain oh Rain
For thy presence i wait.
poem by Peace Okhomina

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A Rainy Day In Early June
The gray sky clouded over the rain is drizzling down
And the golf course is deserted by the river near the town
An early June day in early Winter in the Southern Hemisphere
The sun in the rain clouds hidden it is that time of year
From once you hear him singing his voice with you remain
The magpie he is piping in defiance of the rain
The gray and brown red wattlebird with a hoarseness in his cry
Is calling on a flowering gum that drips of rain nearby
To the vast expanse of dark water that crawls slowly to the sea
And in the calm dampness of the drizzling rain come the song of the pee wee
On this rainy day in early Winter it seems a long way from the Spring
When most of Nature's wildborn birds will build their nests and chirp and sing.
poem by Francis Duggan

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Bring On The Rain (feat. Tim McGraw)
Another day has almost come and gone
Can't imagine what else could go wrong
Sometimes I'd like to hide away
somewhere and lock the door
A single battle lost but not the war ('cause)
Tomorrow's another day
And I'm thirsty anway
So bring on the rain
Its almost like the hard times circle 'round
A couple drops and they all start coming down
Yeah, I might feel defeated,
And I might hang my head
I might be barely breathing -
but I'm not dead (no, cause')
Tomorrow's another day
And I'm thirsty anyway
So bring on the rain
No I'm not gonna let it get me down,
I'm not gonna cry
And I'm not gonna lose any sleep tonight ('cause)
Tomorrow's another day
And I am not affraid
So bring on the rain
Tomorrows another day
And I'm thirsty anyway
So bring on the rain
(Bring on, Bring on the rain)
No I'm not gonna let it get me down
No I'm not gonna cry
So bring on the rain
song performed by by Jo Dee Messina

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Situation
there is a waterfall on my belly
there is a dam on my pelvic bone
i cannot stop this
i will let go a river
there will be a flood
needing you.
be the parched earth
let your cracks be mouths
i will be the rain, i will be the flood
do not destroy humanity
take all of me, this flood, this rain, this dam is broken
i let go a rampage of emotions
i explode
you be the space
you must take all that i am
all that i will be
tackle me, swallow me
drink me
o thirsty earth, my love,
my life, my outlet, my current.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa

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Wooing Summer
because you are lonely
you woo for summer to come
you ask for the swing
and the breeze by the sea
under the coconut trees
but summer is hard to please
and what comes instead is the rain
bringing its mournful sound
the falling tears of the clouds
the heaviness of what it is carrying
but because you are lonely
and nothing seems to be of remedy
you accept the rain as it is
you accept its condolences
and you begin to understand its sympathies
and then you dance and sing with the rain
seeking the company of its miseries
and then you write: my life is lived, not in vain.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa

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All Her Days
All her days are softly going by
With some dreams to be forgotten
Like clouds that are always in the sky
Only to drift away and be forgotten
Sunshine and rain each day sunshine and rain
Life is sometimes a dream rising high
With every opportunity coming to be
Or some loneliness that cannot die
Only to become an inside part you and me
Sunshine and rain each day sunshine and rain
There are dreams that cannot be hidden away
In the mirrors of glasses that make a day
Every love song
is rising in high
With the times
that come with new spring
And its hopes
with the dreams still lie
Bringing worth
to recollections of old gone thing
Sunshine and rain each day sunshine and rain
*(Thanks go to the late John Denver, for his song ‘Fly Away’, for without, this could not have happened) .
poem by Peter S. Quinn

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A Wet Day In July
Such wild and chilly weather with heavy showers of sleety rain
That flood the spouting and the creek and the storm water drain
And the paddocks around the Powlett river seem like an inland sea
And water everywhere about as far as the eyes can see.
The old bloke Mick scratches his head as he looks up at the sky
Saying more rain clouds o'er the ocean 'twill make a wet
July
On either side of the highway from Bass into Wonthaggi there's water everywhere
The paddock by our house is waterlogged 'tis like a quagmire there.
In July in south west Gippsland the weather often wild and cold and wet
But according to Mick from Bass this one the wettest yet
In more than sixty years of life he has known big rainfall
But yesterday is the wettest day he ever can recall.
In the paddocks between Kilcunda and Dalyston water everywhere about
And the Powlett river is overflowing it's banks and it's surplus water is flooding out
Making the land look like an inland sea and cattle on the hill bellow for hay
And in the coastal lands of south west Gippsland another rainy July day.
poem by Francis Duggan

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Do You Really Want to Know Me?
if you know what a river is
perhaps you will know a man
i am a man and you will say to the river
i have known a man and i have known a river
there is no way that i will never you in full
you shall brag to the clouds in your mind
they drift
there is no permanence
permanence is an illusion
a river
a cloud
water
air
and this is where we must start
educating air
if you step upon my heart and tell me
i have know everything about you and you must not change and that is what you are
you are wrong
for i am a river that encircles a mountain
but i know a path but the paths do not know me
and so i keep on moving
changing paths and what path was it that you have seen yesterday
is no longer the path now
you must accept you have never known a river
because a river is man
and man is not forever man
he is a river that always escapes the hold of your mind
that frame that has walls
without even the possibility of another opening for stars....
poem by Ric S. Bastasa

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The Rain
I.
The rain! the rain! the rain!
It gushed from the skies and streamed
Like awful tears; and the sick man thought
How pitiful it seemed!
And he turned his face away,
And stared at the wall again,
His hopes nigh dead and his heart worn out.
O the rain! the rain! the rain!
II.
The rain! the rain! the rain!
And the broad stream brimmed the shores;
And ever the river crept over the reeds
And the roots of the sycamores:
A corpse swirled by in a drift
Where the boat had snapt its chain--
And a hoarse-voiced mother shrieked and raved.
O the rain! the rain! the rain!
III.
The rain! the rain! the rain!--
Pouring, with never a pause,
Over the fields and the green byways--
How beautiful it was!
And the new-made man and wife
Stood at the window-pane
Like two glad children kept from school.--
O the rain! the rain! the rain!
poem by James Whitcomb Riley

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Rain
Roads not yet glistening, rain slight,
Broken clouds darken after thinning away.
Where they drift, purple cliffs blacken.
And beyond -- white birds blaze in flight.
Sounds of cold-river rain grown familiar,
Autumn sun casts moist shadows. Below
Our brushwood gate, out to dry at the village
Mill: hulled rice, half-wet and fragrant.
Rain
Roads not yet glistening, rain slight,
Broken clouds darken after thinning away.
Where they drift, purple cliffs blacken.
And beyond -- white birds blaze in flight.
Sounds of cold-river rain grown familiar,
Autumn sun casts moist shadows. Below
Our brushwood gate, out to dry at the village
Mill: hulled rice, half-wet and fragrant
When The Rain Stopped Falling
there is this heavy rain
falling on top of your roof and it is so disturbing
that you wake up
and lock your windows
to shut yourself away from the sounds
of falling
but you cannot help worrying even when you cannot
literally hear the sound of the falling rain
you still imagine how they fall inside your mind
as though you can hear every syllable that every neddle of rain
is pricking in your brain
your ears
and your eyes still have the image of these
series of fallings
that even if the rain finally stopped
and you open your window to check
in the middle of this time
when morning cracks fromt the shutters of your windows
you still think like crazy
you hear the sound of the wind and it is like the sound of the falling
rain
and even if the wind has left like a leaf flown to the eastern side
of your house
even if there is no shadow of the leaf anymore
you hear your heart falling from your chest
now you must accept
leaving.
now you must accept the pain.
do not deny it.
it is you that is falling out
from the grace of her love.
it is you.
cry it out!
shout it!
it is you.!
it is you!
it is not the rain, it is not the wind, it is not the leaf that was blown away
towards the eastern part of the house.it is not the design of the house.
it is not the purple curtains. it is not the lonely courtyard
it is not the red bowl. it is not the tower.
it is not the blank sheets of paper.
it is not the bell.
it is not the winding stairs.
it is not the dirty garage.
it is not the scaffold.
it is not the white paint.
it is not the doorbell.
it is not the turbulence of the plane.
it is not the slap of the hand.
it is not the blue fan.
it is not the cellophance floating in the air and whirling in that corner
a dead-end.
it is you! and that is the truth!
be calm now. wipe the tears.
try sleep and dream.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa

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A Beautiful Day In December
The high woods are bathed in sunshine it is such a beautiful day
The rufous whistler he is whistling his song to his identity a give away
His kind often whistle before rain and storm perhaps a change in the weather is near
One knows it will rain in warm Summer weather when the songs of the birds one does hear
The golden billed blackbird is whistling he is singing his welcome to rain
How birds can sense change in the weather seems beyond humankind to explain
They can detect change in their environment them we tend to underestimate
The welcome rain in the warm and dry Summer Nature's minstrels happy to celebrate
The more that we learn of Nature the less about her we know we know
As the mother of all living life forms our wonder of her only grow
As well as feeding humans she feeds all life forms to our own selves we are not being true
If we do not love our Earth Mother and pay her the respect she is due
A beautiful day in December the sun shines on the woodland trees
And the songs of Nature's feathered minstrels are carrying in the gentle breeze.
poem by Francis Duggan

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Misty River
This morning
Me in this Misty River
All the happiness
I am feeling inside myself
Misty River
The mist is coming
From this Misty River
There are clouds
In the sky
And the mist
Is caused by the condensation
Of the heat mixed in the cold water
Misty River
I am in a fishing boat
That boat is moving slowly in this
Misty river
It is early in the morning
I am eating my breakfast in the fishing boat in the middle of this
Misty River
I hear the birds singing early in the morning
In this Misty River
There must be trees because the sound of the birds is coming from the Branches
Misty River
So peaceful
It looks so different with the mist
No one is around but me
With my fishing boat
And the beautiful sound of the birds
It is so nice
To have a place to come to
Where I can
Hear the sound of the birds
And be left alone
With no one disturbing me
Misty River
This is my special place
And by afternoon
No clouds I will see
The birds are beautiful
Their song is just beautiful like mother nature intended it to be
If nobody else appreciates this Misty River
I do
Misty River
I will die for you
Misty River
I will shed my tears for you
I have been coming here for so long now
Misty River
poem by Aldo Kraas

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Ready For The Rain
Early in the morning, before the daylight
I hear the sound of thunder, comin through in the night
I lie awake and I wonder , where my life is goin
Am I on a road leadin nowhere, theres no way of knowin
cause Ive seen the lightning
And Im ready for the rain to fall
Now Im standin on a mountain, lookin into the sky
I see the clouds come rollin in, water fills my eyes
I dont know whats in the future, no one can say
Dont wanna think about the past, Ive gotta live for today
cause Ive seen the lightnin now
I need to find my own way, while Ive still got time
And Im ready for the rain to fall
cause Ive heard the thunder
And Im ready for the rain to fall
Im ready, ready for the rain
Ive got to rise above it all
And get ready for the rain to fall
Did you ever know someone, who had lost their way
Built their own little kingdom, and just blew it all away
Im not ashamed to admit it, that someone was me
Im gonna look to the future now, cause Ive set myself free
And Ive seen the lightnin
Im gonna set myself free, while Ive still got time
Get ready for the rain to fall
cause Ive heard the thunder
And Im ready for the rain to fall
Im ready, ready for the rain
Ive got to rise above it all
And get ready for the rain to fall, while Ive still got time....
(repeat chorus)
song performed by by Foreigner

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The requiem of the flies
The rain is crashing upon my face
Its like God is trying to wash away my pain
I look down upon the puddles of mud
Thinking about all the things I have done
The rain is so cold
The dark grey gloom surrounds me
My life is not as it should be
And I don't care anymore
I find that Living is such a bore
The rain is so cold
My mind is numb, cold and blank
This world is passing me by
This world is cold and dank
And I wonder why I have not died
The rain is so cold
Abaddon holds no surprises for me
Under the pale moon I danced on my grave
And I am on my way to hell
I cant deny what is to be
The rain is so cold
My soul is heavy and stained and
I don't want to carry it no more
I carry two coins in my hand
Waiting upon the water's shore
The rain is so cold
The man in white comes for me
Pretending to walk on water
Feet stuttering, hips jutting
About to fall in and he is getting closer
The rain is so cold
There will be no requiescat for me
My apple of Peru has wilted and
The lord of the flies wont let me be
He crushes the flower in my hand
The rain is so cold
It was my last day on earth
The two coins in my hand my life is not worth
My soul knows will know no reprieve
From hell I will never leave
The rain is so cold
My life is to repand upon itself
It is destined to reprise
My song has not ended
But has repetended
The rain is cold
To the Archean I was sent
Where I was meant to repent
Repentir, pentir, paenitere
Until the worlds' end
The rain is so cold
From the puddles of mud I look up
And realize I have gotten old
All my years spent wondering,
And I have no story to be told
The rain is so cold
I can only hope to die one day
And start it all over again but
The lord of the flies wont let me die
I have become one of his flies to my dismay
poem by Leonid Gonzalez

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The Bridge Who Dreams Of Being A River
the bridge finally
confesses to the river
that in every surge of
the water below it
it experiences what human
males call an erection
it strengthens every
cable that runs inside it
the heavy clouds rain on it
and the sun scorches it with heat
every bridge confesses innocence
to this nonsense
the bridge after all is not what
it is, ...it is still going to be
not just a bridge but soon
when it collapses...a river too.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa

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Rain Water
Morning of 21st, I am 34.
The rain outside my window drizzles a rhythm of February dawn.
Rain water flows from the early morning sane—
Rain water washes the yesterday’s pain.
Rain water and I have loved you dear—
Rain water and you come close to me near.
Rain water taps my fingertips, and I love you more than yearning—
Rain water runs deeper into our skins of longing.
Morning of 21st, I am happier.
The rain won’t stop until I melt as a better person.
(written on February 21,2008 Marikina City, Philippines)
poem by Chester Maynes

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Rain, Rain Go Away
Rain in the morning, pouring at noon,
rain in the evening, it's like a monsoon.
The clouds have opened in the skies.
It's like the heavens have tears in their eyes.
But the sorrow that's brought this rain to fall
can be blamed on man who made the call.
We've cursed our earth with our greedy ways
with nuclear radiation bringing the end of days.
Astonishingly, even the steady rain
can't wash away this nuclear pain.
It will poison all that it falls upon
instead of cleansing each brand new dawn.
And who are the creatures that have no respect?
They are soulless bodies without intellect.
Shame on we who've allowed them free rein
to inflict their evil and create this pain.
It's an abomination and they're all insane.
God help us all.
poem by Edwina Reizer

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