On That Same Hour Of The Night
on that same hour of the night
while you
were drinking your beer
alone
and taking big bites
of your beef steaks
and releasing
your stress
on some sticks of
imported cigarettes
on the other side of the table
too
sit two other friends
talking nonchalantly
like the sound systems of
the barrio
the wave their hands
shouting their names
telling me
that these times
they too know how to still enjoy
life and forget
and that i am always too far away from them
in my own kind
of indifference
in my own way
to disregarding
other people's selfishness
and they ask me if i have not forgotten them
their names the place of their origins
their true faces
and how the scars and violence have changed them
how they now learn
to look the other way around and bury themselves
in the small pleasures of smoke and alcohol
defining for once
what is despair
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Related quotes
Faces & Names
Faces and names, I wish they were the same
Faces and names only cause trouble for me
Faces and names
If we all looked the same and we all had the same name
I wouldnt be jealous of you or you jealous of me
Faces and names
I always fall in love with someone who looks
The way I wish that I could be
Im always staring at someone who hurts
And the one they hurt is me
Faces and names, to me theyre all the same
If I looked like you and you looked like me
Thered be less trouble you see
Faces and names, I wish theyd go away
Id disappear into that wall and never talk
Talk, not talk
I wish I was a robot or a machine
Without a feeling or a thought
People who want to meet the name I have
Are always disappointed when they meet me
Faces and names, I wish they were the same
Faces and names only cause problems for me
Faces and names
Id rather be a hole in the wall
Looking out on the other side
Id rather look and listen, listen and not talk
To faces and names
If I had a breakdown when I was a kid
I lost my hair when I was young
If you dress older when youre not
As your really age you look the same
If we all looked the same, we wouldnt play these games
Me dressing for you and you dressing for me
Undressing for me
Faces and names, if they all were the same
You wouldnt be jealous of me or me jealous of you
Me jealous of you, me jealous of you
Your face and your name
Your face and your name
Faces and names
Faces and names
song performed by by Lou Reed
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
Shouting...
i cannot sleep for this constant shouting...
the shouting of trees, the shouting of alleyways,
the shouting of rats crawling through trash.
the shouting of needles and Family Bibles,
the shouting of flags folded and given.
the shouting of machines, abandoned and morose,
the shouting of fields gone barren.
the shouting of poverty ripping color from being,
the shouting of hunger in faces silent.
the shouting of guns loaded and unloaded,
the shouting of clinics, filled without names.
the shouting of prayers wriiten in pavement,
the shouting of rivers filled with sewage.
the shouting of birth, and the shouting of death...
the shouting of love, distant and forgotten.
the shouting of god, in doubt's innumerable forms.
poem by Eric Cockrell
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Nowhere Left To Stand!
angels made of dust,
stray dogs, homeless children.
righteousness invades,
who forgives the forgiven?
the hands on the clock prophesy,
and the darkness demands.
god stares back from the mirror,
moves with human hands.
empty houses on fire,
empty hearts strike with fear.
and all that remains,
words spoken, unseen tears.
pay the cost of the choice,
pay the price of a life.
but you cannot learn to live,
till you learn how to die!
faces without names,
names written in the sand.
praying for deliverance,
with nowhere left to stand.
when hatred takes form,
the identity revealed.
what we cannot bear to touch,
and wont admit we feel.
the candle burns on the table,
the self walks before.
we have to free ourselves,
before we unlock the door!
faces without names,
names written in the sand.
praying for deliverance,
with nowhere left to stand!
praying for deliverance,
with nowhere left to stand!
poem by Eric Cockrell
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Somewhere In The Middle Of This Journey
somewhere in the middle of this journey
is the chaos of our presence
we like to dislodge and vomit of this
nostalgia of where we come from
we like to go back to the womb
and regret having grown our legs
we blame the hands of the midwife
we want to pinpoint who slapped us
we like to hear the sound of vengeance
of our first cries
did we cry for help? did i cry because
i never asked to be put here?
or did i cry because i am just making a lot of nonsense
about my innocence about despair?
i get some names of fathers and mothers and siblings
i write them on a page of a book and i ask what if they were not there
what could have been? what could i be part of?
i shout, i am an individual, i am not a part of this relating places
i am not a connection of the branches and roots
i stretch my hands wanting to touch and get hold of a rope
there is nothing there to put my neck in shame.
we get some comfort to the miseries of others.
we become brave from the stories of their sorrows and misfortunes.
we read the stories and the poems of those who know what is wrong.
what is pain, what is so distressing.
soon we learn this game. This art of shrugging our shoulders and then
putting the payment on the table, not drinking the glass of beer.
Leaving the table and not saying any word at all. And this we tell ourselves,
i am courageous. I am silent. I grow alone. I die alone. I am beautiful.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Bury Me Now!
bury me now,
at the feet of your freedom.
bury me now,
in the bowl of your hunger.
bury me now,
in the healing balm.
bury me now,
in the hand that comforts.
bury me now,
at the foot of the birthing bed.
bury me now,
in the march for peace.
bury me now,
let my body be the bridge.
bury me now,
and give names to the faces!
poem by Eric Cockrell
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
I'm very influenced by landscapes, not so much the way places look as the way the names sound. In this country we've got so many cultures, and the place names - the Spanish names and the Indian names, which are so incredibly musical.
quote by Emmylou Harris
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
Faces
Key:-a - anita r - ray
A: look around you
What do those faces tell you?
R: faces, joy and pain
A: faces
All around different faces I see
Some are happy, some in misery
They express joy and pain
No two faces are the same.
R: people, people all over town
Some of them are poor and others wear a crown
Ive seen alot of many faces
Joy and pain in different places
Open your mind, set yourself free
Figure it out, what could it be?
Sympathise, understand
Give love and peace to the other fellow man
A: faces
R: faces, joy and pain
A: look around you
Do you see those faces
What do those faces tell you
A: everywhere I go, different faces I see
A: faces
All around different faces I see
Some are happy, some in misery
They express joy and pain
No two faces are the same.
R: playing with your life, playing with your soul
You all scream out Im the one in control
Killing of the colours, silly stupid games
You know who you are without no names
Dont mess the world cause that the sequal
Open your mind cause we talking about the people
In the world, all kind of places
Different races, different faces
A: different faces
Everywhere
song performed by by 2 Unlimited
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
Vicious Games
I never knew
How much I loved you
I never knew
How much I cared
So I played
Vicious games, vicious games
With different names, different names
Vicious games, vicious games
With different names, different names
I was afraid
To go under
Afraid to see
When I closed my eyes
Vicious games, vicious games
With different names, different names
Vicious games, vicious games
With different names, different names
I never knew
How much I loved you
I never knew
How much I care
I just played
Vicious games, vicious games
With different names, different names
Vicious games, vicious games
With different names, different names
Now that youre gone
And you have left me
I had to learn
I had to learn how much it hurts
To play those vicious games
Vicious games, vicious games
Different names, different names
Vicious games, vicious games
Different names, different names
Vicious games, vicious games
Different names, different names
Vicious games, vicious games
Different names, different names
song performed by by Yello
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
Vicious Games
I never knew
How much I loved you
I never knew
How much I cared
So I played
Vicious games, vicious games
With different names, different names
Vicious games, vicious games
With different names, different names
I was afraid
To go under
Afraid to see
When I closed my eyes
Vicious games, vicious games
With different names, different names
Vicious games, vicious games
With different names, different names
I never knew
How much I loved you
I never knew
How much I care
I just played
Vicious games, vicious games
With different names, different names
Vicious games, vicious games
With different names, different names
Now that youre gone
And you have left me
I had to learn
I had to learn how much it hurts
To play those vicious games
Vicious games, vicious games
Different names, different names
Vicious games, vicious games
Different names, different names
Vicious games, vicious games
Different names, different names
Vicious games, vicious games
Different names, different names
song performed by by Yello
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
Precious Me
My precious names forgive me,
In the sea of death is a police;
The watery wild begs much misery
To disappear, and concoct a little.
My names are like musical notes
Of the sea and the land and the air.
The praised names convince me
That my fathers and mothers are sound,
Some are here, some of us are then fully present.
My name is my friend for all the times,
The divine songs falter after too many times.
poem by Naveed Akram
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Just The Faces Change
I look around for faces I know
I never ever want to go home
My friends are in bed but I'm best on my own
I'm terrified of driving a car
Afraid I'm afraid of the dark
But it happened before in a different bar
And I know it's late but won't you take me home
I must have thought of getting out now
But how am I gonna get out
When even the names stay the same
Just the faces change
It's easier to stare at the sun
Than look at all the things that you've done
Intentions were good but so was the fun
And you know it's wrong it can't go on for long
I must have thought of getting out now
But how am I going to get out
When even the names stay the same
Just the faces change
Just the faces change
I must have thought of getting out now
But how am I going to get out
When even the names stay the same
Just the faces change
Just the faces change
song performed by by Travis
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
Not Every Poem Knows How To Say Its Own Name Properly
NOT EVERY POEM KNOWS HOW TO SAY ITS OWN NAME PROPERLY
Not every poem knows how to say its own name properly-
There are poems that have no name
And poems that are named by others who have not written them-
There are poems whose names make them what they are
And poems whose names contradict and belie them-
Many poems have their first lines as their names
And these poems often are as memorable as one line only-
Great poems and good poems can be nameless
Or can have unforgettable names.
Not every poem knows how to say its own name properly -
Poems are poems are poems
And names are names are names
And sometimes they meet and are one
And live happily ever after-
But there are times when perhaps
They never should have met each other at all.
Poems have their names
And names have their poems
But sometimes they love each other
And truly are one.
poem by Shalom Freedman
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Dancing with burning madness
Dreams hold me together
dreams of days and nights
spent as one being;
giving ecstacy new names
giving madness new names
giving pleasure
with madness creeping into you
forcing you to forget everything.
You even call names of Gods you know
wondering, these pleasures are real
you cannot believe
as they are greater than
you ever imagined.
Eating each bit of me
with wildness of a mad animal
drinking even sweat of me
as if more sweeter than honey
You pace up and down on me
with your hands, legs,
lips, teeth, breasts, hips.
with your breath going
fast faster fastest
wild animal in you
coming up.
Your eyes are half closed
eye balls rolling up and down
you forget your existence
as a shy, always acting human being.
You think of nothing
only feel wild urges
coming out as wild
with pleasure zones each opening up
making you a bundle of
feelings with all colours
coming in different shapes.
Your whole body
reaching madness
with mind dancing
up and down
and all sides.
poem by Thomas Viruvelil
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
8: 45 P.m.
i had this chance
of seeing you
eating
in my favorite restaurant
you have beer
and some chicken barbecue
and chili sauce
and some
sticks of cigarettes
i know you
have seen me
first
and in hiding your greed
and selfishness
you got hold
of your cellphone
press some
numbers
and letters
and pretend
you are so engrossed
with something
else
i very well understand
how the hardtimes
convinced
you
to take the shame
of eating
alone
and simply forget
all the hungry
children
in our home
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Love & Happiness
Well were dropping our bombs
In the southern hemisphere
And people are starving
That live right here
And theyre tearing down walls
In the name of peace
And theyre killing each other
In the middle east
Chorus:
But love and happiness
Have forgotten our names
And theres no value left
In love and happiness
They raise the price of oil
And they censor our mouths
If you are a young couple today
Forget buying a house
And we wage our wars
In the neighbourhoods
We kill the young to feed the old
And men that aint no good
Chorus:
Yeah, but love and happiness
Have forgotten our names
And theres no value left
In love and happiness
So if you sell arms
Or if you run dope
You got respect
And you got hope
But the rest of us die
On your battle fields
With wounds that fester and bleed
But never heal
Chorus:
Yeah love and happiness
Have forgotten our names
And theres no value left
In love and happiness
And love and happiness
Yeah love and happiness
Have forgotten our names
And theres no value left
In love and happiness
song performed by by John Mellencamp
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
Running Around Loose
People who have spent,
Years of their time...
Trying to convince some who do listen,
There has been others who have treated them...
With offending indifference.
And have done this to them,
For no apparent reason...
As their telling of this story begins.
Upon hearing this,
One should take two steps backward right away.
But these sympathy soliciting conversations,
Can be difficult to detect...
When a professional is in action.
They know just what to say.
These same people...
Seem to have no excuses to make,
Or alibis to offer...
When they are caught in the midst,
Of trying to sell new versions of their lies...
To anyone who had missed the originals.
But had forgotten who they were told to...
With a re-telling to include omitted names,
And what they did that was found to be horrific.
People who have spent,
Years of their time...
Trying to convince some who do listen,
There has been those who have treated them...
With offending indifference.
And have done this to them,
For no apparent reason...
Can be directly associated with,
Why there are so many mentally sick folks...
Running around loose yet appearing totally sane.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Ephemeral
A red hibiscus that blooms
In the morning
Closes, wilts, in the afternoon,
You expect another one of its kind tomorrow,
A china rose,
Your night life,
At the outdoor café, sitting on light fabricated
Silver chairs, sipping tea, puffing smoke, sipping
Margarita, gazing
Slight stolen looks
At young handsome
Men rated per hour,
It is your policy of giving false names and wrong address,
They know
What you are doing,
They understand
Your needs & wants
For a fleeting night
A cure for an itch
Momentary piecemeal pleasures,
Allusions about a broken love of what used to be,
Illusions of what you could have been,
Momentary
Thoughts, momentary projections, when you make love with your catch, as you puff your smoke to
Confuse the ceiling with your gaze of momentary
Emptiness,
You are the first one
To leave, after paying the bills,
They always pretend asleep,
While naked,
As you leave his due on the side table,
You go home on shriveled hair,
Driving a red car,
Smokeless to the road,
Your celfon rings,
Your son in his father’s house calls
“Mommy, I want to go home”
“I am driving, ’ you call him,
A flash of momentary happiness,
A momentary sadness,
Flip-flopping to your mind,
What are these really, these that meet your gaze for something that should have been permanent,
That red hibiscus, that blooms only for a day,
Is ephemeral,
Like stolen nights,
Like the way your child calls you, because father is always away,
“I am in Cebu for a week”, said many times over and over again,
Her stint for a night is ephemeral,
Electronic calls are ephemeral,
A happy home, her dream, was sort of, kinda like red hibiscus
Ephemeral too.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Six
A red hibiscus that blooms
In the morning
Closes, wilts, in the afternoon,
You expect another one of its kind tomorrow,
A china rose,
Your night life,
At the outdoor café, sitting on light fabricated
Silver chairs, sipping tea, puffing smoke, sipping
Margarita, gazing
Slight stolen looks
At young handsome
Men rated per hour,
It is your policy of giving false names and wrong address,
They know
What you are doing,
They understand
Your needs & wants
For a fleeting night
A cure for an itch
Momentary piecemeal pleasures,
Allusions about a broken love of what used to be,
Illusions of what you could have been,
Momentary
Thoughts, momentary projections, when you make love with your catch, as you puff your smoke to
Confuse the ceiling with your gaze of momentary
Emptiness,
You are the first one
To leave, after paying the bills,
They always pretend asleep,
While naked,
As you leave his due on the side table,
You go home on shriveled hair,
Driving a red car,
Smokeless to the road,
Your cellphone rings,
Your son in his father’s house calls
“Mommy, I want to go home”
“I am driving, ’ you call him,
A flash of momentary happiness,
A momentary sadness,
Flip-flopping to your mind,
What are these really, these that meet your gaze for something that should have been permanent,
That red hibiscus, that blooms only for a day,
Is ephemeral,
Like stolen nights,
Like the way your child calls you, because father is always away,
“I am in Cebu for a week”, said many times over and over again,
Her stint for a night is ephemeral,
Electronic calls are ephemeral,
A happy home, her dream, was sort of, kinda like red hibiscus
Ephemeral too.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Home Away From Home
I walk down the small path
bordered either side by bluebells.
As I walk down the path
which I have done hundreds of times before.
There is a stirring in the trees,
which prompts my memories,
of faces that have come and gone
over the passing years.
Also comes back the laughter
that never seems to subside
and all the jokes
we’ve played on one another.
I smiled as I stopped for a moment
to look around at everything there.
It seems like only yesterday
that I came along here,
but in reality, the years have flown by.
Some faces I remember
will never be coming back to visit,
while the others I might see someday.
Even when the sad day comes
when I can’t come anymore.
I will leave with many photographs
in my memory store.
A few more steps I take
and the town comes into view
along with friendly faces
on the boardwalks there.
There are a few whose names I forget,
but the faces I know so well
in this little town
I call my home away from home.
15 February 2008
poem by David Harris
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Bedsitterland
Writers: leo sayer & frank farrell
Im thinking of taking
The easy way out
Open the window
Ill fall to the ground
I could do it -- wouldnt be much too it
I gotta little place here in the city
Its kind of small and dirty, its a bedsitter
And theres a lot of us living here
Wall to wall in one big house
And when the night comes round
I can see a lot of lonely lights
There are people in there breathing
But it dont seem right
In the streets way down below me
Im listening for just a sound
But nobody comes around
In bedsitterland
And theres a man below me on the balcony
Crying to be heard
Screaming to be heard
Im haunted by his words
And the people in the street just shrug their shoulders
Saying hes disturbed
Hes in another world
Screaming at the birds
Crying to be heard
I hear his every word
Ive slept in the gutter on a summers day
Oh Ive bummed cigarettes in the night cafes
Ive joined the breadline
Believe I got a deadline
I gotta little place here in the city
Its kind of small and dirty, its a bedsitter
And theres a lot of us living here
Wall to wall in one big house
And when the night comes round
I can see a lot of lonely lights
There are people in there breathing
But it dont seem right
In the streets way down below me
Im listening for just a sound
But nobody comes around
The lights are going down
Nobody comes around
In bedsitterland
song performed by by Leo Sayer
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!