Our Home Is Faraway From There
on the last day
our nerves went berserk
at the 29th floor
we viewed the
river again
and since it is so cold
we closed the
glass window
and now we
remember what you
have long said
about what home
really is....
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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A Radio With Guts
it was on the 2nd floor on Coronado Street
I used to get drunk
and throw the radio through the window
while it was playing, and, of course,
it would break the glass in the window
and the radio would sit there on the roof
still playing
and I'd tell my woman,
"Ah, what a marvelous radio!"
the next morning I'd take the window
off the hinges
and carry it down the street
to the glass man
who would put in another pane.
I kept throwing that radio through the window
each time I got drunk
and it would sit there on the roof
still playing-
a magic radio
a radio with guts,
and each morning I'd take the window
back to the glass man.
I don't remember how it ended exactly
though I do remember
we finally moved out.
there was a woman downstairs who worked in
the garden in her bathing suit,
she really dug with that trowel
and she put her behind up in the air
and I used to sit in the window
and watch the sun shine all over that thing
while the music played.
poem by Charles Bukowski
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An Arrangement Of Priorities
i got a cup of hot
green tea
on top of a pile of
legal folders
i got a window
made of glass
up the second floor
and i could see
what is happening
down the road
i got a closed door
a dusty floor
and a shining pen
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Long River
Where the long river flows
It flows by my window
Where the tall timber grows
It grows round my door
Where the mountains meet the sky
And the white clouds fly
Where the long river flows
By my window
Theres a tiny bird that calls
And he calls by my window
Theres a lonely tear that falls
And it falls round my door
But when the sun is high
Theres no time to cry
Where the long river flows
By my window
Now if only you could see
The closin of the day
If only you could be
Where the dawn breaks away
By the white cascade
Oh down in the glade
Where the long river flows
By my window
Well when this land was made
It was made full of wonder
But one womans love
I cant understand
And Id give it all to you
If her love were true
Where the long river flows
By my window
Where the long river flows
By my window
song performed by by Gordon Lightfoot
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Wuthering Heights
Out on the wiley, windy moors
Wed roll and fall in green.
You had a temper like my jealousy:
Too hot, too greedy.
How could you leave me,
When I needed to possess you?
I hated you. I loved you, too.
Bad dreams in the night.
They told me I was going to lose the fight,
Leave behind my wuthering, wuthering
Wuthering heights.
Heathcliff, its me--cathy.
Come home. Im so cold!
Let me in-a-your window.
Heathcliff, its me--cathy.
Come home. Im so cold!
Let me in-a-your window.
Ooh, it gets dark! it gets lonely,
On the other side from you.
I pine a lot. I find the lot
Falls through without you.
Im coming back, love.
Cruel heathcliff, my one dream,
My only master.
Too long I roam in the night.
Im coming back to his side, to put it right.
Im coming home to wuthering, wuthering,
Wuthering heights,
Heathcliff, its me--cathy.
Come home. Im so cold!
Let me in-a-your window.
Heathcliff, its me--cathy.
Come home. Im so cold!
Let me in-a-your window.
Ooh! let me have it.
Let me grab your soul away.
Ooh! let me have it.
Let me grab your soul away.
You know its me--cathy!
Heathcliff, its me--cathy.
Come home. Im so cold!
Let me in-a-your window.
Heathcliff, its me--cathy.
Come home. Im so cold!
Let me in-a-your window.
Heathcliff, its me--cathy.
Come home. Im so cold!
song performed by by Kate Bush
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Silent River Part2
Sunday is a holiday
I'do again
I'makes again
The memories of the silent river
I'come again
To remember
I'have ever love and miss
Here in the silent river, silent so silence
The memories of the silent river
I'felt his love again in this river
I'felt his longing again in this river
I'felt his kindly again in this river
And i'see again his softly face in the water
In this silent river, silent so silence
The silent river
Makes me remember
I'miss again
the silent river
Makes me to get so many things
Sitting nearby silent river
Come to me the lonely
Come to me the long yearning
Come to me the tears
Come to me the rain
The silent river keep my memories good
In the silent river, silent so silence
Save me now, from all the dejected
To spin around all back
This silence is geeting on my nerves
Were i'am so afraid
You were to be lost in thought
And all was lost to me
Here in the silent river, silent so silence
A Glass Of Water Please
and so the story wants to end itself with a
glass of water.
those who cry after always need
a glass of water.
those whose hearts are broken
those who sob
those who close the window of the niche
those who have nightmares
those who wake up at 3 o'clock in the morning
those who sit on bed and cannot sleep back
always go to the kitchen
open the refrigerator
get a glass and splash
a cold glass of water
this time, i am asking for a glass of water
for i could be
all of the above or you could be one of those
i have described
but who knows we are not one of those
who knows
we are but just anyone who is normally thirsty
and with nothing to ask
simply ask
for a glass of cold water.
and cheerfully, we do not forget to say
please....
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Chamber
I sit on the cold chamber floor and think, I think about how things should have been and how they turned out to be
I sit on the cold chamber floor and I remember when it was just you and me, I remember all the times we shared and how nothing could compare to the way you made me feel
I sit on the cold chamber floor and I try, I try to forget all the pain that I feel
I lay on the cold chamber floor and I wait, I wait for death to come and take me away
poem by Erin Tejeda
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From My Window
from my glass window
at the second floor overlooking the sea
i see big waves arriving on the sandy shore
murky sea waters striking each rock
like teeth gnashing and tongues lashing
the strong winds from the Pacific Ocean
have arrived at the earlier time
Cold and strong and threatening
the trees sway, the leaves fall, the children
are kept at bay inside their houses by their mothers
there is going to be a big typhoon tonight as predicted
i close the window and remember many sad things in my life.
i tell myself, i assure my senses, i am safe now, i am strong now.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Upon Writing This Poem
you see, everyone is asleep
and the rain pours heavily on the tin roof of this old house
the white dog lays with its four legs facing the ceiling
feeling so contented
i closed the glass windows
and let the brown curtains fall
on the floor
as i begin to write the words i am not thinking of anybody else
is there someone still who is special to remember
during a heavy rain on a night like this when i am already alone by
myself?
i still have a suspended answer to all these questions
or perhaps they have no answers still
for the past 30 years
now with some white hairs and extended forehead
i am at home with myself
and no rain how heavy and how long
can instill in me the fear
of its monotonous sound
my feet have roots and my hands have tendrils
my head is a big sunflower
and the void out there is such a beautiful greenfield
on a limitless horizon
this world is an open window
this earth is a big boat
and i am now the sailor expectant of islands
and welcoming ports
bustling cities
diamond lights
starry skies.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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On The 29th
what shall i recall on the
29th?
shall i recall the squander
of time
and remember how fruitless
is the tree of time
how lushful are the leaves
how strong are the trunks
and yet so fruitless
like someone might have said
that this tree deserves to be cut
and burned?
on the 29th
what shall i tell you about myself?
i shall tell you that i have lived so fully
that i have not wasted all the days of my life
that i have done my duty
that i have kept all my responsibilities
that i have kept my word
to love you with all my soul, my mind, my heart
that i have not betrayed my promise
that i have won my wars
that i have fought loneliness
that i have chosen happiness
on the 29th
i shall throw nothing away
except perhaps this little party
for a few friends
i blow some pains
on those little candles
48 in all, and i will keep the 49th
still for the next
happy birthday to myself.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Do You Remember
Do you remember
Picking up rocks and skipping them
By the people fishing
Do you remember
Having them yell at us
For scaring the fish away
Do you remember
Running as fast as we can
So they wouldn't catch us
Do you remember
How happy we were
When they didn't catch us
Do you remember
When we got home that day
And you started drinking
And got mad when the liquor ran out
Do you remember
When you stumbled outside
To get another bottle
Do you remember
The cop came to arrest you
And how you made a scene
Do you remember
Being so mad about it
That you kicked the cops window out
Do you remember
All of us watching you
As they took you away
Do you remember
When they added another charge
To your already long police record
I Had A Window Full Of Rain
closed down rumbling beating hard
Glass arrayed cold warmth untouched
Sorrowful frigid sterile surface glide in
Unopened crumbling crackling water sobs
And then a child a child came in
Looked at the window rumbling beating loud
It said ‘It looks like magic
Those racing drops and this rhythm blast
Restless trembling leaking down
Wow it’s a window full of steam
I think I will draw it a smile
I think I will draw it a heart
I think I’ll make it
A happy window pane
A laughing window pane.’
poem by Miroslava Odalovic
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Welcome Home
In my life
I have seen
Far away places
Wild and serene
But nothing I saw
Prepared me for
The mat on the floor
Saying "welcome home"
Time flies
See the moon rise
As I'm makin' my way
Through another long day
But I'll go
To a place I know
In my heart I know
There's just no place
Like home
Welcome home
Welcome home
To that place
That's safe and warm
Always a shelter
From the storm
I'm going home
Welcome home
Roll out the welcome mat
For me!
I'm goin' home
Sometimes
I remember
All the days I never knew
If I would ever make it through
But just when
I'd give up again
I'd remember when the days
Were stormy
Home was always
Waitin' for me
Sayin'
Welcome home
Welcome home
Where there will always be
A welcoming light on
Just for me
When I go home
Welcome home
No place
That I would rather be
Than goin' home
In my heart I know
That someday when my time
Is drawing near
I'm gonna hear
Welcome home
Welcome home
Where there will always be
Somebody waiting
There for me
When I go home
Home sweet home
Everyone's smilin' just for me
When I go home
In my heart I see
Somebody waiting
There for me
Welcome home
Welcome home
It looks like a
Starlight symphony
I'm goin' home
song performed by by Barry Manilow
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Window On The World
A broken promise I kept too long
A greasy shade and a curtain drawn
A broken glass and a heart gone wrong
That's my window on the world
A cup of coffee in a shaky hand
Waking up in a foreign land
Trying to act like I got something planned
That's my window on the world
That's my window on the world
Could you stand a little closer girl?
Don't let Mama cut those curls
That's my window on the world
In broad daylight that circus tent
Pulled up stakes, I don't know where it went
A closed dark room with a busted vent
That's my window on the world
I think about you and I'm countin sheep
I think about you then I can't sleep
I think the ocean is just so deep
That's my window on the world
That's my window on the world
Could you stand a little closer girl?
The Queen of Sheeba meets the Duke of Earl
That's my window on the world
Down on Indiana Avenue
Where some Jimmy men, they play the blues
I guess they were only passin through
That's my window on the world
That's my window on the world
Could you stand a little closer girl?
Don't let Mama cut those curls
That's my window on the world
song performed by by Jimmy Buffett
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Case Of The Window Pain
an astute answer
discerning shrewd
would surely mention
this wit must be
personification
of a window pane
as for the window pain
perhaps the window is shamed
perhaps the window is dirty
as for the window pain
perhaps the glass is cracked
small large cracks streaked
as for the window pain
perhaps cricket ball punctured
victim of circle game holed
as for the window pain
perhaps the window is broken
glass shards bear crime witness
as for the window pain
perhaps window frame rots
an old window in house derelict
as for the window pain
perhaps the window witnesses
child abuse domestic scenes violent
poem by Terence George Craddock
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Baguio city, a memory....
i remember
that coldness of December
we stayed
on top of that hill
below us
all fog
around us trees
foggy trees
the glass window
is hazy
the heat from the fireplace
gives
the warmth that we cannot
give
to each other
my mind played on the
waves of fire
when all the lights are closed
at midnight
i remember
i went out of my room
went outside the house
climbed the fence and
stood there with my arms raised in surrender
i was too lonely
and did not know what to do
where to
i was broken.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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As a young boy
As a young boy
I remember
seeing a plastic
Jesus statue
with a finger
pointing to
his Heart
I remember
waking up
on Cold
frosty mornings
and reading
Notes of
Jack frost
on each window
I remember
in the Early
hours of the
morning
Three Taps
on the window
and waking up
to the Old Hag
staring
I remember
asking my
Mom
many Questions
and her
saying
Only God
knows
poem by Jay Reynolds
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Windy Town
Driving home from the highland line
We done some gigs on the clyde and the tyne
They flew us in from a hamburg strip
The taste of dusseldorf still on our lips
And on the bus there is a friend of mine
We go way back to the scene of the crime
We sit up front and share a cigarette
And try to remember what we tried to forget
He say do you remember?
He say do you recall?
I say yeah I remember, oh, I remember it all
Every time that cold wind blows
Every time I hear that sound
Late night trains shunting down by the river
I remember windy town
We come so far and we move so fast
Making hay see it all go past
Round the world and round again
Up and down on that gravy train
But every time that cold wind blows
Every time I hear that sound
The east coast cross winds on the cold wet stone
I remember windy town
The freezing corners and the empty streets
The burning passion and the cold wet feet
Three tricky miles home every night
Dodging from the shadows underneath those amber light
No car for kissing and nowhere to go
Except inside each other and I loved you so
I held your face as you shivered in the rain
Girl Ill always love you and Ill love you again
Oh everytime, everytime
Every time that cold wind blows
Every time I hear that sound
Late night trains shunting down by the river
I remember windy town
Every time that cold wind blows
Every time I hear that sound
The east coast cross winds on the cold wet stone
I remember windy town
song performed by by Chris Rea
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Long Way Home
Words and music by bob seger
Winners, losers and small time misusers
Do what they must on their own
Lovers, dreamers and beautiful schemers
All take the long way home
Some have their reasons
Some lose their way
They all want so much to succeed
How do you tell them apart
The best of them leave with their hearts
Now that its summer
I went to the river
The water was never too cold
Always together through all kinds of weather
We took the long way home
She was the best
I ever knew
Somehow she drifted away
Now that Im older
The nights seems much colder
I spend too much time alone
Sometimes in summer
I kept thinking of her
And Ill take the long way home
Ill still take the long way home
song performed by by Bob Seger
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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What You Do Not Expect....
you are on your
way to the tenth floor
go inside
the room and closed
the door
open the window
and get some fresh
air from
the sea
you sit on the
window sill
and the people
down the street
go panicky
you are whistling
a song
and all the while
they are praying
that you do not
jump
from that
high....
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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