One Day You Like To Go Somewhere
one day you like to go somewhere
and a friend who meets you asks 'where? '
and you do not answer
not because you detest him
but because you do not have any answer
and you ask yourself 'where is somewhere? '
and you walk all the days of your life
to that 'somewhere' figuring our where is this somewhere?
everyday. Time passed. Your hair turned gray.
The path has become a highway. And neighbors have taken
in some strange names. The children in the playground
do not know you.
you meet you friend, the one that you met before
the one that once asked you 'where are you going? '
and you tell him ' i am going somewhere' and i have been
going and going somewhere to a place that i
still do not not know, but now i know it
i am going somewhere inside me. I am walking all day
yet i have not covered any considerable distance.
I am going somewhere. It is that somewhere that arrives now.
This death unto oneself. This promise that i too, will arrive
at somewhere else.
And then the two of us, take our glasses against the
rays of the setting sun.Our eyes are focused on the dimming horizon.
We are silent. And forever we will be silent. Tomorrow, you will
speak for us, on the same lines, 'I am going somewhere', because
you have never gone there yet.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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In The Dusky Path Of A Dream
IN the dusky path of a dream I went to seek the love who was mine in a former life.
Her house stood at the end of a desolate street.
In the evening breeze her pet peacock sat drowsing on its perch, and the pigeons were silent in their corner.
She set her lamp down by the portal and stood before me.
She raised her large eyes to my face and mutely asked, 'Are you well, my friend?'
I tried to answer, but our language had been lost and forgotten.
I thought and thought; our names would not come to my mind.
Tears shone in her eyes. She held up her right hand to me. I took it and stood silent.
Our lamp had flickered in the evening breeze and died.
poem by Rabindranath Tagore
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River (Millie)
Flowing through my life like a river,
you provide that tranquility,
the ever constant path and rhythm.
You are all I could of asked for.
A friend I care for,
a friend I can't love more,
a friend so bright,
a friend sparkling my night.
A friend always there,
a friend who is always fair,
a friend who I respect,
a friend better than all the rest.
A friend I admire,
a friend who I can't tire,
I friend who I trust,
a friend which has no lust.
A friend who will last,
a friend who you can't cast,
a friend who is a treasure,
a friend forever for sure.
As I will try to keep you,
supporting you as I can,
standing by your side in decisions,
trusting you with my eyes closed.
poem by Javier Falcon
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Strange Days
Sometimes we have strange days
when you are going somewhere
you have been countless times before.
As you drive down the roads,
it is as if it is the first time you have been there.
Arriving at your destination
everyone you see reminds you of someone else
in a different place many miles from where you are.
With some, it is the way they walk,
in others the ways they do their hair.
Strange days when nothing
seems the way it should be.
You journey through the day
as if you’re walking in a dream,
all the time wondering
when reality is going to kick in.
How will you feel tomorrow
when you wake to a new day,
will it be as strange as the one
you experienced today.
Only tomorrow knows
and its secrets it is not giving up
to you or anyone else.
Until the day is over more strange things
you may uncover
on what I call strange days
that happen occasionally in our lives.
18 July 2009
poem by David Harris
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Where Do We Go From Here?
after 70 years
of so much planning
nothing exciting
really happened in
his life,
he concludes everything
is wrong
because he is actively doing
everything
for him
he did not give fate a chance
to shape his own life
it is life that takes us
where to go
and life is a silent friend
it does not tell us
anything
we simply wait
for the surprises
a boat may arrive from a far horizon
and waits upon us at the nearby pier
we shall step inside its body
& it will take us
to a place
intended for our own good
a black bird my hover on the window sill of our house
and sings
and we who listen to the sweetness of its song
shall learn
about the most beautiful thing that can happen
out there
the next day shall be another adventure and fun
for we are life's children
and she is our loving mother
we simply have to open our eyes
alert our ears
and be sensitive to each and every sign
that life
everyday sends us
we simply must enhance the trust
and surely it will be good
and beautiful
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Goodbye Dear Friend
Goodbye Dear Friend
Goodbye dear friend
Until we meet again
Promise to keep you in my heart forever
And cherish all the memories we have shared together
Goodbye dear friend
We may travel in separate ways
I promise forever our friendship will stay
I may find and meet somebody
But the friendship we have will reminds me everyday
Goodbye dear friend
I may be far, far away
But in my mind and in my heart
Forever you will stay
Goodbye dear friend
Until we meet again …..
By. D.C.D. dated 17.01.2010
poem by Desiree C. D.
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Silence
When I see you I am voiceless. I cannot speak. The moment goes by too fast for what I want to say, by the time it's out of my mouth your ears would be too distant. So I remain. Silent. I speak to you with my eyes instead. Eye contacts risky business. But I take the chance. I stare. I stare. And I stare. Hoping you'll notice me. With all the noise around us, my silence speaks loudest. You see me. Our gaze meets. Sudden death. Look away or meet the challenge. It's a draw. Why is he staring at me, what's he up to, what now, I'm sure are things your asking yourself. I am friend not foe. We are silent but our conversation carries on, in a cosmic wavelength. Thoughts travel faster than any light ever could. Light speed, the light traveling, itself started out as an idea. We have millions of ideas. As we evolve we find our voices are not necessary. Thoughts are deeper than science, deeper than religion, deeper than the undiscovered depths in the sea. in our minds we can escape. We can create anything we wish. And with those ideas we can change the world. If the world truly exists. Maybe it's just a thought.Perhaps we are just thought.. A character in someone's mind where all our decisions are not our own. Just a doodle on drawing pad. There is so much our minds can do for humanity, good or bad.In my mind I can commit perfect crimes in silence all without making a sound. My soundless Utopia, where poverty doesn't exist and death is not feared. Because death is silent. He is welcomed. A master in the arts of silentology. Politicians could Learn a thing or two from him. Your campaign may be the most heard but it doesn't mean your popular. No one wants a talkative leader. I'd vote for a deaf man. Then at least I'd know he would never sell a promise and not deliver. He would only be heard through action. Helen Keller for president. The streets speak a language of its own. A silent lingo. The ones most fluent are the ones that walk them. And the way they are is the way they are dealt with by the big wigs. Silently. My thoughts surge through my mind. And this all happened in your eyes. A split second and I've invented a silent society. Then it's over. You look away the bond that held us has broken into thousands of invisible pieces that crashes to the floor without a sound. You get up. You walk away and I stay silent. I can't ask for you to stay and I won't. You talked to much anyways.
poem by Jeremy Rascon
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Light is out, Black is in
The light is getting dark
the clouds are turning gray
but i'll be ok
The day turns to night
and it's not going to change
So i'll walk through the streets
to see myself in a different light
The dark catches up and i'm covered
with death and dark
the dark is my new best friend
Through the dark i can control death
Through my death i can see my life
the life that was, is and could have been
with my new found friend comes
the choice of life or death
The dark is good it's new
the light was bad it's old
through the dark new choices arrive
with the light nothing was to choose
The dark is getting darker
but is that good or bad
cause it means death is for sure
I want the light back
I want to see myself not a stranger
poem by Jess Jayne
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I stared into death eyes
i woke up this morning and
i stared into Death eyes.
Death was amazing
he was wearing his black hoodie
and his skeleton bones were red.
Death held up a picture of you
and a picture of me.
i stared into Death eyes.
Death stuck the pictures together
and made them become one.
oh, how i stared into Death eyes.
Death did something to me
he stuck his hand out
i grabbed it and we took a walk.
it was a walk in the park
and then i seen you and there was me
we were married, you wonder how i know,
because i had the prettiest rock on my finger.
we were sitting on a bench
watching 3 little kids
playing on the playground
but then i look closely.
the little girl had eyes like mine
the complextion like mine and ears like you
the boys were twins and they looked exactly like you.
then i thought about it
those are our kids
then i stared into Death eyes.
i ask Death is this reality
Death stops me from breathing
and say suicide is not the answer.
i began to feel wozzy
as if Death was taking all my sins
and all my pain away and repeats
his self 3 times.
suicide is not the answer
suicide is not the answer
suicide is not the answer
and then i wake up
realizing that it was just a dream
a dream indeed.
now i know what it feels like
to stare into the eyes of Death.
now i know that my time wasnt
supposed to end back then,
my time ends with you.
-La'Veranique
*aka* dat girl nickey
poem by Nickey Mason
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A Friend LikeYou
A friend like you is like no other friend
A friend like you is a friend I don't regret meeting
A friend like you is like a friend I can't scream at or fight with
A friend like you is like having no worries in my life
A friend like you is a friend that I don't want to lose
A friend like you is like being in comfort all day
A friend like you is a friend I always wanted
A friend like you is awesomely awesome
A friend like you is random and funny
A friend like you is a friend that I love to death and I will never let go
A friend like you is a friend I can tell all my secrets to
A friend like you..
A friend like you is like the little sister I've always wanted
A friend that I can go to tell them what's wrong
A friend like you is like having no dark days because you brighten them up
A friend like you is a friend that opens up my eyes and helps me avoid bad things
A friend like you is a type of friend that laughs at dumb things I say or do
A friend like you is a friend I am proud to call my best friend...
poem by Shubham Kumar
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On Taking The Early Train
`
Yes, I will try to be brave
just like you'd want me to be;
here I am waiting on shared memory:
Dear old friend, where might you be?
And where is it that we have arrived:
now we're quickly fading into oft-turned pages
that lay dog-eared upon sweet serenity
while a fresh film of dust settles on table tops,
while train carriages shrink into the distance
that could only part-reveal their silent witness.
Yes, our time together, though passed on too soon,
brought us at the crossroads of our existence.
Your friendship has left such an imprint on my soul,
in my thought & yearning you shall forever remain.
Reminiscence is now all that is left
and the garden grows wild without your presence,
friend, my dear friend, where might you be?
`
poem by Frederick Kesner
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Blowin In The Wind
How many roads must a man walk down
Before you call him a man?
Yes, n how many seas must a white dove sail
Before she sleeps in the sand?
Yes, n how many times must the cannon balls fly
Before theyre forever banned?
The answer, my friend, is blowin in the wind,
The answer is blowin in the wind.
How many times must a man look up
Before he can see the sky?
Yes, n how many ears must one man have
Before he can hear people cry?
Yes, n how many deaths will it take till he knows
That too many people have died?
The answer, my friend, is blowin in the wind,
The answer is blowin in the wind.
How many years can a mountain exist
Before its washed to the sea?
Yes, n how many years can some people exist
Before theyre allowed to be free?
Yes, n how many times can a man turn his head,
Pretending he just doesnt see?
The answer, my friend, is blowin in the wind,
The answer is blowin in the wind.
song performed by by Bob Dylan
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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When I Was A Child I Believed
When I was a child
a very young child
I looked at the world
of adults in discussion
their patterns of interaction
their comments reactions
a very strange world
differences between what adults said
and what child were told
their masks worn
and I thought about what
they did and why?
Questions were asked
about what you wanted
to be when you grew up?
The work question was important,
but never asked was how well you
would do this work, and for who?
They were often silent or suddenly angry
‘children were to be seen but not heard’
the news to be listened to in serious silence.
First talk repeat their sounds
to smiles laughter
then don’t talk be silent listen?
First stand walk walk how far
then don’t walk stay wait
where your told don’t go away?
When adults met sometimes they would
start to talk a lot fast all at once not one
at a time and laugh a lot talk walk funny?
Why not be on their best behaviour
nice to others as they told children to be?
Why not choose to be good not bad?
Years later I would smile a lot why not
it costs nothing to smile and often others.
Would catch your smile and smile also?
Even when sad smiling was a good thing to do
to appreciate all you have been given.
Even though you could not always play with
what was given or go outside or play with friends.
Especially on those boring rainy days.
So many games were not allowed if you got dirty?
As a teenager smilie would be a nick name.
That smile given freely to people who needed
to smile but chose to be miserable instead!
It never cost anything to be nice to people either!
To give to help had its own record, it felt good!
Happy people are the nice people to be around!
I believed happiness was the most precious gift,
a person could give another, and if sad then to give,
happiness you did not have; was even more important.
Once in my early twenties I was surprised,
a friend said you cannot be that good,
no one is that good, but I knew I was not good.
At twenty-two when about to travel overseas,
my uncle said you think everyone is your friend,
be careful, everyone you meet; is not your friend.
Now I am older and sadly wiser,
yet I still know that to treat a stranger,
as a friend not a treat is still better.
That to say hello with a smile,
and wish people well,
is still a wonderful thing to do.
I still believe it is a better thing to do.
And when kindness is meet with hostility?
I feel pity for the hurt who choose to hurt.
It is not the right way.
It is not God’s way.
It is still not my way.
poem by Terence George Craddock
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A Friend Like You
A friend like you is like no other friend
A friend like you is a friend i dont regret meeting
A friend like you is like a friend i cant scream at or fight with
A friend like you is like having no worries in my life
A friend like you is a friend that i dont want to lose
A friend like you is like being in comfort all day
A friend like you is a friend i always wanted
A friend like you is awesomly awesome
A friend like you is random and funny
A friend like you is a friend that i love to death and i will never let go
A friend like you is a friend i can tell all my secrets to
A friend like you..
A friend like you is like the little sister ive always wanted
A friend that i can go to to tell them whats wrong
A friend like you is like having no dark days because you brighten them up
A friend like you is a friend that opens up my eyes and helps me avoid bad things
A friend like you is a type of friend that laughs at dumb things i say or do
A friend like you is a friend i am proud to call my best friend...
poem by Jenni Cortes
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Why
(michael cretu)
.
I was childish and unfair
To you, my only friend
I regret, but now it's too late
.
I can't show you any more
The things i've learned from you
Cause life just took you away
.
I'm asking why
I'm asking why
Nobody gives an answer
I'm just asking why
.
But someday we'll meet again
And i'll ask you
.
I'll ask you why
Why it has to be like this
I'm asking you why
Please give me an answer
.
Many years and stupid fights
Till we accept to see
How it was and it'll always be
.
Why it has to be like this
Why we don't realize
Why we're too blind to see the one
Who's always on our side
.
I'm asking why
I'm asking why
Nobody gives an answer
I'm just asking why
.
Just tell me why
Why it has to be like this
That the good ones disappear
I'm asking you why
.
I'm asking why
I'm asking why
Nobody gives an answer
I'm just asking why
.
I'm asking why
song performed by by Enigma
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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To A Departed Spirit
From the bright stars, or from the viewless air,
Or from some world unreached by human thought,
Spirit, sweet spirit! if thy home be there,
And if thy visions with the past be fraught,
Answer me, answer me!
Have we not communed here of life and death?
Have we not said that love, such love as ours,
Was not to perish as a rose's breath,
To melt away, like song from festal bowers?
Answer me, answer me!
Thine eye's last light was mine - the soul thtat shone
Intensely, mournfully, through gathering haze -
Didst thou bear with thee to the shore unknown,
Nought of what lived in that long, earnest gaze!
Hear, hear, and answer me!
Thy voice - its low, soft, fervent, farewell tone
Thrilled through the tempest of the parting strife,
Like a faint breeze: - oh, from that music flown,
Send back
one
sound, if love's be quenchless life,
But once, oh! answer me!
In the still noontide, in the sunset's hush,
In the dead hour of night, when thought grows deep,
When the heart's phantoms from the darkness rush,
Fearfully beautiful, to strive with sleep -
Spirit! then answer me!
By the remembrance of our blended prayer;
By all our tears, whose mingling made them sweet
By our last hope, the victor o'er despair; -
Speak! if our souls in deathless yearnings meet;
Answer me, answer me!
The grave is silent: - and the far-off sky,
And the deep midnight - silent all, and lone!
Oh! if thy buried love make no reply,
What voice has earth! - Hear, pity, speak, mine own!
Answer me, answer me!
poem by Felicia Dorothea Hemans
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My Wonderful Beautiful Lady Has Golden Eyes
Your angel eyes cursed me from the first time I met you
Your eyes have magic made me follow you simply
Your eyes colors stolen the color of the honey
Because the color of your eyes its gold
Your eyes shining in the night same the stars in the sky
I had never seen like you in whole the world
On all these specifications in you is not finished yet because you are unlimited in the beauty
Your long blond hair is very awesome
When the air plays with your blond hair & its fly when you are walking
Oh my god
I'm dying on this section of your beauty
Your awesome beauty chasing me everywhere I go
I can't remove you from my head simply
I see your picture always in front of my eyes
You burned fire inside my heart
I woke up on a dream I can't tolerance it simply
I can't tolerance your love simply
You are very hard love on me
But at the end I must accept it because this is my fate
May be I can't do everything for you that you want
But I have a white romantic heart it's for you only
So please except this heart that it's in your hands
I don't have money but I have this heart
I can give you only the real love in whole your life
But I can't build castles in the air & all suddenly fail down on the ground
This is me my lovely lady
The answer is up to you
I'm waiting for your answer
I became a romantic poet because of you
I became a famous poet & everybody know my love for you how its looks like
I loved you from the first time I met you
You are always in my head & I had never forget you for a while
I will still love you forever in whole my life
To my last day of my life
To my death day
You are my first love & my last love in whole my life forever, forever
Sincerely
Your Lover Forever In Whole Your Life
The Romantic Man
Ali Sabry
Space Between Us
An eternity passed by me,
Unwilling, I watched it go
In the fog of reticence
Hovering elusively
Over the space between us,
Compounding the misery
Of your absence
And my absence...
You could not hear me
Calling you aloud
With my eagle's eyes
But then I realized
That you following me
With yours...
All the blurry distance
Of the divided highway
Muffling the sound
Of my soft voice...
I wanted us to travel together
And I thought you asked me
To be your man
But you did not speak
And I did not speak either!
Nothing was mentioned,
So, nothing was clear,
I turned away again
And to the familiar place
Where I deeply cried!
This painful agony
Became the irony of life!
©All Rights Reserved-2012
poem by Romeo Della Valle
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Best Friend, Best Friend
Best Friend, Best Friend
How I love you so
I will be there forever until the end
What I would do for you, you will never know
Best Friend, Best Friend
Don't go away
I promise it won't happen again
After what we have said, there is nothing left to say
Best Friend, Best Friend
We have grown apart
It is like hatefulness is the new trend
You may not be in my life, you are always in my heart
Best Friend, Best Friend
poem by Victoria Horn
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And I Stop Laughing
The doorbell rings
While I’m laughing
My blood goes cold
And I stop laughing
I don’t answer, can’t answer
Now you’re standin’ at my door
But I can’t help you anymore
And I’m frozen in time
This wasn’t meant to rhyme
Starin’ in your scared little eyes
And I’m not your friend
Not your friend
Not your friend anymore
The fading tattered figure of my far away old friend
Dearest friend Nimal,
I too feel the cool breeze of Christmas through the broken windows in an isolated hospital here.The sickness wasn't diagnosed yet; but I am sick once again.I dreamed a Santa Claus that resembles you my dear, but in reality, I understand the distance between us.Please try to respond to this letter soon at least in few lines as my days are numbered it seems.I enclosed here a poem that I am sure you grab as a keepsake.
Thanks & best regards
sincerely,
a friend in tears
Postscript
[ This is a Chinese old poem written by an unknown poet translated into English by Arthur Waley]
A man went to war when he was fifteen years of age.When he returned home he was eighty.On the way he met a man from his village and asked him where his house was and who was at home.He showed him the house a deserted place all covered with trees and bushes.
Rabbits had run in at the dog hole
And pheasants flew down from the beams of the roof.
In the courtyard was growing some wild grain; And by the wells some wild mellows.
Plucked the mellows and made soup.
But there is no one to eat them with.
While tears fell and wetted my clothes.
*A report to my silent friend Dave Tanguay
poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
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