On These Dry Seasons Of My Heart
on these dry seasons of my heart
the dry leaves heap and
i tread upon
them all
the sounds of crumpling
are no longer confusing
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Related quotes
That Early Morning
under the trees
you tread upon a heap of leaves
only a few feet walked on this path
the winds came and gave a hush
it has been this way
since
meanwhile some rays of light
begin to pierce crevices between
touchy
the leaves fall like a confetti
you remember
once when freedom first arrived
in the streets of the city
you hear the shouts of joy
for liberation
you remember opening hands
some fists
it is over now
and what you have are the sounds of footsteps
on the heaps of leaves
on this path
where no one likes to tread again
you are
alone again but stronger this time
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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The Old House in the Glen
Winter has come and the wind and the rain
Wash over the house in the glen.
It cradles itself as if it were cold
For no one still lives within.
The years have passed over it, leaving it aged
And empty, and lost, without heart,
With no one to live there, no one to care
And the leaves are piled up on the hearth.
If you stand in the doorway, you can feel
Soft music that hangs in the air,
Like the soul of the house that ever lives on
Though there’s no longer any to hear.
The door is now gone, the windows un-paned,
The wood on the roof has gone slack.
But it still lingers on, as if waiting for
The people it loved to come back.
The old house listens, and waits, and sings
As the wind blows in through the door
And the beat of the heart of the house still sounds
Like the tread of their feet on the floor.
poem by Kate Wiley
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Use Of Time
with the words staying me slow
the verbs that just don't flow
confusing use of time
partial stoning of the heart
waiting for something to start
confusing use of time
but the trying again
makes me think it's all gonna end
confusing use of time
but everytime i turn the volume down
all that i hear is the deafing sound
of your hearts pound
chorus
today
song performed by by 311 from Transistor
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Love in Autumn
It is already Autumn, and not in my heart only,
The leaves are on the ground,
Green leaves untimely browned,
The leaves bereft of Summer, my heart of Love left lonely.
Swift, in the masque of seasons, the moment of each mummer,
And even so fugitive
Love's hour, Love's hour to live:
Yet, leaves, ye have had your rapture, and thou, poor heart, thy Summer!
poem by Arthur Symons
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Must Be The Music
Sometimes I listen to what people try to say
And then when I tune in I think, no thats not the way
Sometimes I listen to what people have to say
And then when I tune in I think, no thats not the way
It must be the music
It sounds so confusing
It must be the music
Thats opening my eyes
It must be the music
It sounds so confusing
It must be the music
Making me realise
Sometimes I listen to what people try to say
And then when I tune in I think, no thats not the way
Sometimes I listen to what people have to say
And then when I tune in I seem so far away
It must be the music
It sounds so confusing
It must be the music
Thats opening my eyes
It must be the music
It sounds so confusing
It must be the music
Making me realise
song performed by by Oasis
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Too Early
it is too early
i guess the nights are longer now
it is 4: 56 a.m. it is cold
the air is cold
and the windows are still closed
the rooster at the yard
keeps on crowing
while other roosters of the neighborhood
(i live in a rural town
with dusty roads still at the other
nearby kiosk)
keep on crowing too for an answer,
how i wish to make you
a lovely,
happy,
gentle,
peaceful poem
no one screaming on the road
not a motorcab screeching
neither a bus overspeeding
and spreading dust
how i wish to write you a poem
about love
or about that only peaceful star
hanging on the
early morning sky
just a wish
but really
there isn't any
it cannot be
what with a heart that is grieving
a soul that is lost
a body that trembles
a mind with thoughts live leaves
heap upon heap
without a match
to burn them all
this hot days of summer.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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An Early Morning Wish
it is too early
i guess the nights are longer now
it is 4: 56 a.m. it is cold
the air is cold
and the windows are still closed
the rooster at the yard
keeps on crowing
while other roosters of the neighborhood
(i live in a rural town
with dusty roads still at the other
nearby kiosk)
keep on crowing too for an answer,
how i wish to make you
a lovely,
happy,
gentle,
peaceful poem
no one screaming on the road
not a motorcab screeching
neither a bus overspeeding
and spreading dust
how i wish to write you a poem
about love
or about that only peaceful star
hanging on the
early morning sky
just a wish
but really
there isn't any
it cannot be
what with a heart that is grieving
a soul that is lost
a body that trembles
a mind with thoughts live leaves
heap upon heap
without a match
to burn them all
this hot days of summer.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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what do we do to Mother Earth?
do not burn
let the leaves fall to the ground
let them stay there
layer by layer
heap upon heap
let mother earth
hug all the leaves
let the affection be
strong and heavy
let the leaves die
and rot and become
water and become dust
to dust
let all of us see this dust
we shall do what mother earth
and nature loves best
to dust we shall return
and be its permanent part
close to the bosom
of mother earth
forever
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Winds Of Seasons With Hands Of Hope
i hear the wind
by the wind sound
talking to the waves
with a wind sound
mounted upon the leaves
on the ground
to wind through
and around the leaves proudly
as it runs through me so loudly
and mannered towards me so gladly
to sing a song
by the winds of seasons
as they change in seasons
and cheer in different joy
i feel the wind under me
i can see the sun shine over me
i can walk along the path to sober me
and sleep around the hands on me
to hold me with hands of hope
as all hands do matter
to hold each soul
with hope
today and the days ever
to let the hands of hope
touch my heart
and cleanse me for yet a season
in winds of seasons
opn17082012/2305
'winds of seasons with hands of hope'
'hands of hope' book no.9 of 2012
aug.2012
ntema's unique poetry (nup)
poem by Onalethuso Petruss Ntema
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Must Be The Music (Unreleased Demo 1992)
sometimes i listen to what people try to say
then when i tune in
i think, no that's not the way
sometimes i listen to what people have to say
then when i tune in
i think, no that's not the way
it must be the music
it sounds so confusing
it must be the music
thats opening my eyes
it must be the music
sounds so confusing
it must be the music
when people realise
sometimes i listen to what people try to say
then when i tune in
i think, no that's not the way
sometimes i listen to what people have to say
then when i tune in
i seem so far away
it must be the music
sounds so confusing
it must be the music
that's opening my eyes
it must be the music
sounds so confusing
must be the music
when people realise
song performed by by Oasis
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Tread Careful
Tread careful
Because youre treading on my dreams.
Tread careful
Because Ive just one heart
Tread careful
Let me down slowly
Or Ill forget how to dream.
Chorus:
I wont forget anything
(I love you)
I wont forgive anyone
(do you love me? )
Tread careful
You hear the sound of my breathing
Tread careful
Because I feel this sound
Tread careful
Im falling in a glasshouse
Im trying hard to begin
Because I want it to get harder
Tread careful
Before I change my mind
Tread careful
I could surprise you
I know something you want to do.
(repeat chorus)
Tread careful
Im sure you dont care but
Tread careful
I could change your mind
Tread careful
Ive been waiting for you
There is no comfort in here.
(repeat chorus)
song performed by by Gary Numan
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Longİ Ng Through The Seasons
ARE WE CHANGİ NG...or the seasons...the last leaves of the trees...tend no to fall from the trees...the last flowers of fall tend not to bloom again.....are we changing or the seasons...are we changing or the seasons...happy tiny fingers caress the whiteness of the falling snow near the window pane...at the other side...bare feet are shivering in the snow...as though match seller girl of andersen has revived again..some people are begging in the wilderness for piece of bread..are we cahanging or the seasons..an old woman her hair bleached by snow opening her hand..for a stand...are we chaNGİ NG OR THE SEASONS....the last flowers of the seasons of the seasons tend not to bloom again...I envy the struggle between the seasons for being and overwhelming....and when every season changes...I long for a new fresh life and world towards goodnes...beauty...peace and brother hood.............
poem by Metin Sahin
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Prodigal Returning
won't you tell me I
have not lost my soul!
I am on the way back
from around the bend
back into the languid pools
and the billowy breezes
that sing spontaneous songs
in the cool of afternoon
-such sounds lift the spirit
bringing a peace and serenity
against the cruel hardness
& the crashing discordant sounds
of this torpid confusing world
`
poem by Frederick Kesner
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The Lover's Chronicles (Part Two)
no, not yet! take my hand, let us
walk towards the setting sun. the
mountains seem closer, the trees
whisper and wait. for the night
brings its own sounds, a new and
deeper closeness, breaking down
the barriers of the need for concepts.
open your hands, close your eyes, listen,
then let go! of every image you have
of self, of want, of need... the bird
leaves the nest and never looks back,
no longer clinging to a world made of
straw...
i will love you, first with stillness,
then with sounds heard for the first time.
i will bring you taste, richness and raw.
i will bring you healing, that searches
your unnamed sorrows for joy. i will listen
to your heart, and hear. i want to know
you before we touch... i want to touch
you, and know you more!
poem by Eric Cockrell
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A Heap’s peak
Everyone has a heap,
Each heap has a peak,
Be it a mountain or an ant hill.
Priding on such heap one would die,
Each soul thus getting some respite.
15.06.2003
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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How Long Will I Love You?
How long will I love you?
As long as stars are above you
And longer if I can
How long will I need you?
As long as the seasons need to
Follow their plan
How long will I be with you
As long as the seasons need to
Wash upon the sand
How long will I want you?
As long as you want me to
And longer by far
How long will I hold you?
As long as your father told you
As long as you are
How long will I give to you
As long as I live to you
However long you say
How long will I love you?
As long as the stars are above you
And longer, if I can
song performed by by Waterboys
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Irresistible
Seasons come, seasons go
But each season leaves a distinction
For which it is remembered
So once a season came
With a green environment
Rosy plants all around
And I enjoyed the period
Went to the orchard
And picked a flower
That I stayed with long after the season had vanished
But this same flower I had picked
Went with the season
I did not know I could not stay with it
Without its season
Despite all that
There is a wonderful flower I have seen
Which does not vary with seasons
But stays amidst all circumstances and seasons
It has a goon\d name
That every time I mention it
I find myself hungry
Dear sister
Pick the flower too
The all season flower of salvation!
poem by Brian Bwesigye
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Repetoire
There are songs that I no longer play,
even when I’m at practice alone.
The words are to painful to sing
now that I’ve reaped what I’ve sown.
There are places that we used to go,
where I haven’t gone in a year.
The barkeep must think that I’ve died,
As I no longer stop for a beer.
There are friends that I no longer see-
They would only remind me of you.
Phantom pains to an old amputee
Bitter leaves from my garden of rue.
There are songs that I no longer play,
Whose lyrics would stab at my heart.
These days, I’ve been drinking for two.
It’s my solace since we’ve been apart.
poem by John F. McCullagh
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I Dont Know Why I Write
I don't know why I write
I write every night
life can get confusing
Absolutely nothing is black and white
Gotta take a step back if you have to ask if it's alright
Life gets a little confusing when your living for the fun
every single nights fucked up and your alone when it's done
Life gets a little confusing when your living for the love
because the sacrifices we make can actually fit like a glove
If you want to live that life
Go ahead don't think twice
Regrets are the only thing that can break and ruin a life
I don't even know what I'm doing with mine
poem by ryan Cravatta
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Rest In Peace
Lets talk of peace,
Sounds so cliche
A novelty,
Catch phrase of the day
Middle, index,
Sign of the time
Just as complex,
As water to ...
Someone said
Give peace a chance
And, thats all that were saying
While were sitting
On the fence
Pretending,
Our hearts are in the right place
But, your face
Shows a trace of,
Hypocrisy,
Dont tread on me,
Now you can see
Make love not war,
Sounds so absurd, to me
We cant afford
To say these words, lightly
Or else our world,
Will truly, rest in peace
Lets not pretend,
To justify
Rather amend,
Where treasures lie
Straight through the heart,
Peace can be found
Thats where you start,
Not all around
Someone said
Give peace a chance
And, thats all that were saying
While were sitting
On the fence
Pretending,
Our hearts are in the right place
But, your face
Shows a trace of,
Hypocrisy,
Dont tread on me, boy
Now you can see
song performed by by Extreme
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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