One Afternoon By The Cafe...
YOU get attuned to talking to yourself
while sitting on a bench
with coffee held by your left hand
your right hand simply doing nothing
you see the people passing by
like the hours in your
mind
like the hands of the watch
circling
busy, really busy
concentric and arriving at nothing
actually
it is the best that happens
in an afternoon
like this one
the manic days of March
meandering mind
reconnecting
readjusting....
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Related quotes
Busy
I am busy
you are busy
we are busy
but the old woman needs help
to find her way home.
I am busy
you are busy
we are busy
but the dove is too slow
to fly out of the way.
I am busy
you are busy
we are busy
but the children crossing the street
are too many.
I am busy
you are busy
we are busy....
I am busy
you are busy
we are...
busy.
poem by Marites C. Cayetano
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Busy Bodies
So you think that you have seen her
When youre lying in between her
And you tell me that you dont care
Busy bodies getting nowhere
Evrybodys getting meaner
Busy bodies
Caught in the concertina
You check her outline
Break her regulations
You watch her legs through several
Service stations
Busy bodies
Very busy
Getting nowhere
Nowhere, nowhere, nowhere
Now youre ready for the merger
With the company youre part of
And you do the dirty business
With your latest sleeping partner
Youre becoming
Automatic
Busy bodies
Out playing with the traffic
You want attention
You try my patience
With the best intentions you are nothing but a nuisance
Busy bodies
Busy busy
Getting nowhere
Nowhere, nowhere, nowhere
Now youve given your performance
Though the matinee was idle
And you find that a wave of her right hand
Could seem so tidal
Just a second
Satisfaction
Busy bodies
Temporarily out of action
You wash and brush up
You want to dress up
You want to kiss her
But shes busy with her makeup
Busy bodies
Very busy
Getting nowhere
Nowhere (x6)
song performed by by Elvis Costello
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Busy Bee
Everybodys alright with me
Possibly youll disagree
Busy bee watch the world go by
Everybodys alright with me
Thats just the way I choose to be
Everybodys on my mind
Cant sit aside and watch this world go by
That aint me
Chorus x2
Busy bee watch the world go by
Everybody does their time
The people walk in crooked lines
Everybodys got their choice
But often we dont use our voice
Chorus x4
Busy bee watch the world go by
How could you be so blind?
Some people they just aint satisfied
Watch the world go by
I always hear the school bell ring
Let the children dance and sing
Just let us find whats been lost
So many people get torn and tossed away
Chorus x3
World go bye x3
Watch the world go bye x3
Nice ending bit
Everybodys alright with me
song performed by by Ugly Kid Joe
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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My Imagination
Its four in the afternoon,
I’m sitting with pen in hand
waiting patiently for
my imagination to break through
but it seems to be held back
behind a closed door.
My mind and my pen
want it to find the handle
open the door and come in.
However, it seems hesitant,
why I don’t know.
My thoughts are wandering
in different directions
and not on a steady course.
Maybe that is why
my imagination can’t get in.
26 March 2011
poem by David Harris
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An Afternoon Poem
When i write this one,
this general idea about something
with nothing definite in particular
falling short of the images required
of a poem,
i really have no audience in mind
i am just writing like talking a walk or
sitting on a bench watching some of you
passing by,
definitely, this is an afternoon poem
and that is what is definite about it
i am tired
but i cannot rest
when i arrive in the house
only the dogs meet me
there is no one here
no note
left on the fridge
there is only this silence that keeps
me company
and the image of the wagging tail of
a dog
the only loyalty that seems
to abide by the rules
of this
game, well,
i should not be surprised
it has been this way
and i like it that way now
this nonirritating
spectator
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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At two o’clock in the afternoon
You complicate yourself
It is hot and you need a fan
You sweat
And in between some quick naps
You snap
For some missing thoughts
And you said
You need something to take
To remember
What you miss awhile
You need coffee
Or lemon tea
You do not want
Something cold
This is the hot portion of the day
And you do not want to crack
You scribble
There is something that is terribly lacking
In this foreplay of a good remembering
Something passionate
Or romantic
Or something to shock you so you do not
Get sleepy
You remember some lines at the tip
Of your tongue
But you cannot complete what you just remember
You sip coffee
It is so sweet and you do not like sugar
At two o’clock in the afternoon
You are half awake
You want to write but you cannot remember
You would rather sleep
But it is just too hot
And you are sweating
You keep mumbling words
Keeping yourself busy with what you
Remember and forget and cannot
Completely discard
Something is bugging you really
You know
You just don’t want to say it
You simply want to ignore it
It is facing you confronting you
Like a neighbor wanting
A fistfight
You turn your head away
And you keep saying it is hot and I
Need coffee but there is so much sugar
I can have tea, I am busy
Either you can have her or me
Not both, for God’s sake
Face it.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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An angel was passing through the Sky
Hey! Anyone can answer me what's life.
All the hands in the class raised.
Teacher was glad to see those.
'So, you all know', teacher said.
Can anyone tell me what is dream.
All the hands in the class raised.
Teacher was glad to see those.
'So, you all know', teacher said.
Can anyone tell me what is fear.
All the hands in the class raised.
Teacher was glad to see those.
'So, you all know', teacher said.
Can anyone tell me what is mind.
All the hands in the class go down.
Time was passing, without a single sound.
Classroom was fulfilled by husky wind.
'Last bench corner '
'Last bench corner ', hey! you tell me.
The boy was looking far far away behind the window grills.
Stood up.
Placed his hand on his chest and closed his eyes.
An angel was passing through the Sky.
poem by Sougata Majumder
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We can also fly
A winter afternoon
Just snowed and
Everything white everywhere
I was waiting in one of the busy
Airports of United States of America
To board a flight to New York
Delayed flights
I was wandering in the lounge
Afternoon turning to twilight
So soon, was my wonder
Checking in,
Security checks
Announcements
Calling people by name to board
All were busy
And I was waiting for
The announcement for
Boarding my flight
Overlooking the aircrafts
And people boarding thereon
Through the tall glass panel
And I happened to see
Two sparrows
Chasing one another
And perching on cables
And wires those were running along
The walls of the lounge
Did I hear them talking
It looked like that
One sparrow telling
'Why they are so busy'
The other answering
'They have rescheduled
Most of the flights and
They are trying to accommodate
Everything within a particular time'
'Oh, I see.
But how come they are not taking
A note of us'
'Why should they take a note of us'
'Because, we can also fly'
'You only can fly
But they make others too fly'
poem by Bashyam Narayanan
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On A Treadmill
On a treadmill, designed by him, the one who fills our life with sin,
Making us too busy to seek God, while we agree and simply nod.
He is the enemy of the Cross, and wants to fill our life with dross,
As we go about another day, in that same old frenzied, busy way.
We may even be busy for Christ, but, too busy, comes at a price,
As the enemy then fills our life, through the busy with undue strife.
While today bleeds into tomorrow, which leads hearts into sorrow,
As his goal from the very start, is overwhelming a believer’s heart.
That treadmill which has no end, in essence, is the time we spend,
With at times no peace of mind, to be found within the daily grind.
Adding simply one more thing, more stress it only seems to bring,
All with no apparent end in sight, while we seek to do what’s right.
Just like Martha spent and frayed, with a heart that’s so dismayed,
Working her fingers to the bone, but, sad to say, she is not alone.
Feverishly working without peace, with burdens that do not cease,
Not at all like her sister Mary, who had lived her life rather contrary.
For Mary’s choice was the best, for living this life we need to rest,
Within our Savior’s loving hand, while we live in such a weary land,
Taking on His yoke which is light, as we learn to do all that is right,
Getting off the treadmill of life, and into the Peace of Jesus Christ.
(Copyright ©05/2008)
Twilight Night
I
We met, hand to hand,
We clasped hands close and fast,
As close as oak and ivy stand;
But it is past:
Come day, come night, day comes at last.
We loosed hand from hand,
We parted face from face;
Each went his way to his own land.
At his own pace,
Each went to fill his separate place.
If we should meet one day,
If both should not forget,
We shall clasp hands the accustomed way,
As when we met
So long ago, as I remember yet.
II
Where my heart is (wherever that may be)
Might I but follow!
If you fly thither over heath and lea,
O honey-seeking bee,
O careless swallow,
Bid some for whom I watch keep watch for me.
Alas! that we must dwell, my heart and I,
So far asunder.
Hours wax to days, and days and days creep by;
I watch with wistful eye,
I wait and wonder:
When will that day draw nigh—that hour draw nigh?
Not yesterday, and not, I think, to-day;
Perhaps to-morrow.
Day after day 'to-morrow' thus I say:
I watched so yesterday
In hope and sorrow,
Again to-day I watch the accustomed way.
poem by Christina Georgina Rossetti
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Awareness
Sitting in Costa Coffee,
Sipping my Earl Grey tea,
I wanted to be alone,
And didn’t want to meet anyone
I have known.
I sat and stared
At people passing by,
Talking animatedly and looking at the ware.
Sitting in the Mall
Does ease my mind,
And I feel free of stuff that makes me feel appalled.
Amused I saw escalators,
Ferrying people to and fro
And felt we have really come far.
I just needed a change,
And wasn’t here to browse.
So I let my gaze
Wander about.
Soon I forgot why I was here,
For sometime I was fully aware.
poem by Mamta Agarwal
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Miles Away
Where Im looking everything seems clear.
Not a worry as I float up here. press me to explain?
Searching deep down for the answer.
I see the world in a different light, busy changing,
Rearranging. Ill be missing
For a while, Ive got a few things on my mind.
Please leave me alone on this day.
Im in conversation miles away.
Please leave me alone this afternoon,
Im in meditation high above.
Fields of green and deep blue skies above.
Ill share with you a place Im thinking of.
Play in the sunshine,
Sing my favorite song again and again.
I see the world in a different light, busy changing,
Rearranging. Ill be missing
For a while, Ive got a few things on my mind.
Please leave me alone on this day.
Im in conversation miles away.
Please leave me alone this afternoon,
Im in meditation high up.
I see the world in a different light, busy changing,
Rearranging. Ill be missing
For a while, Ive got a few things on my mind.
Please leave me alone on this day.
Im in conversation miles away.
Please leave me alone this afternoon,
Im in meditation high above.
song performed by by Queensryche
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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359
take this empty paper cup
i have in my hand
it is empty
and you will fill it
i ask of you
you think of the hot water
and coffee
so i may not sleep for days
you change your mind
you take the cup
and fill it with coldness
like chunks of ice
no i will not crack
on this sudden change
like the empty cup
in your hand
i am simply made of paper
throw me crumple me
i am prepared and i really
do not mind at all
i have always felt
the same love for you
even in the midst
of a frosty day
on thick fogs
on cold tin roofs
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Take This Empty Cup
take this empty paper cup
i have in my hand
it is empty
and you will fill it
i ask of you
you think of the hot water
and coffee
so i may not sleep for days
you change your mind
you take the cup
and fill it with coldness
like chunks of ice
no i will not crack
on this sudden change
like the empty cup
in your hand
i am simply made of paper
throw me crumple me
i am prepared and i really
do not mind at all
i have always felt
the same love for you
even in the midst
of a frosty day
on thick fogs
on cold tin roofs
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Swoon
I cannot sleep
When my mind is running
Faster than my will to sleep
And I'm far too busy weeping
To find solace in simply sleeping
I cannot sleep
When fears of the future
And tears of the past
Burden my head
And I'm far too busy weeping
To find solace in simply sleeping
I cannot sleep
When hope for the future
And letting go of the past
Is more exciting than a dream
In calm repose
Only darkness flows
I cannot sleep
When nightmares
Instill shock and horror in me
And I'm far too busy weeping
To find solace in simply sleeping
Staring so long at the silver moon
Insomnia loses and I simply swoon
poem by Dyhanara Rios
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A whole new ball game.
The time had come for me to go and leave the world of work behind
I was not sure, did not know how I would occupy my mind
To fill the long hours of the day. I knew some things I’d like to try.
But work had left small time for play and now there s was no reason why.
My times my own an I am free to try my hand at something new
from pottery to poetry and that is what I mean to do.
It may seem strange but now I find there are too few hours in the day.
To do the things I have in mind. I look at life a different way.
Retirement wrought a change in me I do the thing I want to do
I have no one to please but me. Something you can look forward to.
When you too leave the world of work behind. You’ll be too busy to regret.
The years you spent as a wage slave you’ll be quite happy to forget.
19-Jul-08
http: // blog.myspace.com/poeticpiers
poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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So you are back reading this poem again
I see you sitting alone in a coffee shop
Two cups of coffee now, just to pass the hours away
Waiting for nobody
You pretend
Busy with your wireless laptop
Typing some words
Looking at the road beyond the glass walls
Cars keep passing by
Not one is stopping
Shall you pretend some more
That any of those cars is the inspiration
Of your write-up for today?
Okay, you are into advocacies for women
For the underprivileged
For the kids
For those who do not know how to smile
But let me suggest
As you read this poem
Back to my arms again
This time
Take more time with me
In this game
Of loneliness this passion for boredom
Have compassion to both
Of us-lonely souls searching meanings
In laptops in coffeehouses on more
Cups of coffee
I am taking the mug, it is bigger
And its holding effect is a little longer
And some cigars this time.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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I’m a busy man, I earn as I can
I’m a busy man, I earn as I can
Never bother who created man
I enjoy life as I can
People tell me, Get up early
I sleep late,
So go to hell
I’m a busy man, I earn as I can
Somewhere I read,
pray to god
I don’t have any time for that
I’m a busy man, I earn as I can
Mother says take care of health
I say most important is wealth
I’m a busy man, I earn as I can
Preachers preach,
Never be phony, Live honestly
I say fool as many
Being honest is being lousy
I’m a busy man, I earn as I can
My goal is money
Even if have to kill somebody
Life without money
Is bee without honey
I’m a busy man, I earn as I can
I met with an accident
Nobody lent a helping hand
I realized, I was disliked
I thought with all the might
To make life happy
One has to live rightly
Greed is worst for life
With it one can never rise
I’m a changed man
Contentment is my ambition
Now, I never earn as I can
poem by Nirantar Dr.Rajendra Tela
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I would I could stand on a busy corner, hat in hand, and beg people to throw me all their wasted hours.
quote by Bernard Berenson
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Barreness Of A Busy Life
Beware the barrenness of a busy life.
(Socrates)
bored as barren
a body that is bone-dry,
a walk in the desert,
dry as dust,
moistureless existence
lips parched,
a thirsty soul,
a life waterless
busy, busy, busy,
that is what you are.
beware, for soon
in seeking life
busy, busy, busy,
you lose it.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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