R 4
no matter how tight you hold captive
the cat on the rope
even if you shut it from the windows of your world
into the vacuum of
the most silent of all indifference
into the consuming fires of hate
you cannot
hide the voice and put the face into
the insignificance of the ash
because the dust is dust and it will always speak
about the truth of an origin
because the past intimacy rises again
to put you back at its own prison
and in that clear pond where you once sat and took a look
there, there you can see again
the face of
Narcissus, the shadow of selfishness
it dives and then die there again
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Related quotes
Dust Moon
How long have I been running far far away from you
As many miles as I've gone
Still the darkness comes on
There will be a crimson moon tonight
Dust moon rises...your face haunts me so
Dust moon rises...sanity leaving me soon
I still see your blood on the face of the moon
Your face haunts me, nothing clear now
Dust moon has risen
Bloody, mocking moon
Daylight seems lifetimes away, eternal midnight
Keep running away
Dust moon has risen...haunting me so
Dust moon rises...sanity, leaving me so soon?
I still see your face on the blood of the moon
And when the dust moon rests his weary head
And the sunshine begins to rise
Will I still be here or will I be dead
Is the dawn of a new day just a lie?
Art of Shadow
for David Hartanto, may the truth reveal
follow the move
like faithful rook
shape the face
hide the rest
fake the real
the shady deal
witness of crime
smile from darkness
trick of eyes
hand behind curtain
in the row
under the tow
live as flow
but never show
in the mirror, in the wall
invisible harlequin, long-legged lover
narcissus tragedy, the fate of echo
the silhouette, the shade
the play, the dance
make a serenade
under the moonlight
the ghost of past, the future trace
the tinted heart, the tainted world
when there is a light
there will always be
shadow, shadow
the silent dark partner
poem by Maria Sudibyo
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Sometimes I am amazed of the magic that is done
It all started with something insignificant
Like dust,
Sticking on a window pane, and I want it
Dusted off, it is dirt, it is unwanted,
And I do not even know what to do next
About such
Insignificance and feelings of simply
Trying to get rid of dust immediately,
But then, I begin to think about this
Dust, this me, this dust in me,
Some dusts on my feet, some dusts on
My forehead, and some dusts in my ears,
Some dusts in my eyes so obstructive
Of what I really am, and I know what to do next,
The bulb lighting in my head in a sudden,
I touch the dust,
I feel the dust with my fingers, and I am crazy enough
I taste the dust on my window pane,
And I shiver,
I am shaking to its taste, the taste of nothingness
If was from dust that I really come,
I now remember,
It will be to dust that I shall return,
I am now reminded,
And the dust that I used to see
As dirt, as something so insignificant, is now,
A magical patch, glistening, so filled with meaning,
I am nothing but dust; I am biting the dust,
I am very insignificant, in that window pane, at first.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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All Depends on Mind!
A small dust in one's eye can
hide whole world,
Every impression depends on
how clear one's eyes are,
And how clear the line of vission
is, Because even a small leaf near eye can hide even the distant
Sun! A feeble voice nearest to ears can
hide a distant loud voice! Life is the record of impressions
and expressions,
More than that is,
Way of communication and
confrontations with
connotations, Encounters of truth and false!
Blinding our eyes with our own
dust,
Or by covering eyes with our
own colour,
eyes are helpless, as helpless as any useful device, misused!
Senses are independent of one
another,
Yet they are confederate,
Mind is the the governor,
Soul is the king!
May these senses obey or conspire,
Impressions on the mind,
Expressions of mind,
Misunderstanding is far dangerous than not understanding,
Reports of Governor are decisive,
lead or mislead the King,
But the raise and fall,
Depends on how able the king is!
poem by Ramdas Bhandarkar
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Everyday Is Like Sunday
Trudging slowly over wet sand
Back to the bench where your clothes were stolen
This is the coastal town
That they forgot to close down
Armageddon - come armageddon!
Come, armageddon! come!
Everyday is like sunday
Everyday is silent and grey
Hide on the promenade
Etch a postcard :
How I dearly wish I was not here
In the seaside town
...that they forgot to bomb
Come, come, come - nuclear bomb
Everyday is like sunday
Everyday is silent and grey
Trudging back over pebbles and sand
And a strange dust lands on your hands
(and on your face...)
(on your face ...)
(on your face ...)
(on your face ...)
Everyday is like sunday
Win yourself a cheap tray
Share some greased tea with me
Everyday is silent and grey
song performed by by Morrissey
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The World I Lived In Is No More
THE WORLD I LIVED IN IS NO MORE
The world I lived in is no more
The world I live in now is less and less my own
I try to hold on to my small part in it
I do not know how long this will last.
The world will continue after me
It will go on and on and on
I will be forgotten
All I have done will be forgotten
I will be lost forever
It will be as if I never was
Dust is the beginning
And dust is the end
And I will be dust
Though I have a voice now.
Unless God decides otherwise.
poem by Shalom Freedman
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I Wish I Hated You
I HATE YOU, I HATE YOU, I HATE YOU! !
I’M CRYING OUT – CAN’T YOU HEAR ME? ! ? !
MY HEART ISN’T BROKEN… IT’S SHATTERED
YOU TOOK MY HEART AND WALKED ALL OVER IT
WITH YOUR COLD AND INCONSIDERATE WAYS
NOW, I DARE YOU – TRY TO BREAK MY HEART AGAIN
WITH YOUR SELFISH AND IMMATURE BEHAVIOR
TRY TO TEAR ME APART AGAIN, I DARE YOU
STOMP ALL OVER MY VERY EXISTANCE
YOU DID IT BEFORE. JUST DO IT AGAIN YOU TWO-FACED BOY
I HATE YOU, I HATE YOU, I HATE YOU
THESE WORDS I SO WISH I COULD SAY TO YOUR FACE
SO YOU COULD SEE THE WRECK YOU CAUSED
BUT THERE YOU GO… RIGHT PAST ME
I’M A PERSON! ! NOT A THING YOU CAN TOSS AWAY! !
YOU’RE BREAKING ME APART – STOP IT!
STOP TREATING ME LIKE THIS
COMING BACK RIGHT WHEN I’M ABOUT TO GET OVER YOU
…THEN LEAVING AGAIN! ! !
I HATE YOU, I HATE YOU, I HATE YOU
YOU CAME INTO MY LIFE AND TOOK MY HOPE
SMASHED MY DREAMS
WHAT ELSE DO YOU WANT FROM ME? ! ? !
I HATE YOU, I HATE YOU, I HATE YOU
I HATE YOUR FACE THAT LURED ME IN
I HATE YOUR VOICE THAT TOLD ME SUCH LIES
I HATE YOUR HEIGHT THAT TOWERS OVER ME MAKING ME A LESSER PERSON
AND MOST OF ALL, I HATE YOUR EYES THAT LOOK RIGHT THROUGH ME
EACH TIME I COME UP TO YOU
I HATE YOUR HEARING THAT CAN’T SEEM TO HEAR ME WHEN I CALL OUT TO YOU
I HATE YOUR BRAIN THAT CAN’T SEEM TO UNDERSTAND THE PAIN I’M IN
I HATE YOUR REVOLTING THOUGHT PROCESS THAT REFUSES TO BELIEVE
I HATE YOU, I HATE YOU, I HATE YOU
I WOULD SAY I HATE YOU, BUT I THINK WE BOTH KNOW THAT IT’S NOT TRUE
I HATE THE WAY NO MATTER WHAT YOU DO, I’LL STILL BE BY YOUR SIDE
LOYAL AND SMILING THROUGH THE PAIN
poem by Nikki Taboada
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Light brings shadow
Light throws shadow.
Sound leaves silence.
Windows lets air and dust.
Let us face likewise
Pleasure and pain.
28.01.2012
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Shut my Mouth
There are those whom wish
I would just shut my mouth.
For my words cut them to
the bone when I speak of
an abuse child. Or a person
drowning in the sea of his or
her own addiction. They real
wish I would shut my mouth when
I speak of equality for all. Also when
talk about suffrage one goes through
from AIDS, Cancer to Death. I done had my
words crumbled in thrown back in my face.
I have been given looks as if they want to shove
my words back down my throat until I choked on them.
But for all those who want me to shut my mouth I have
got three times as many who want me to speak.
So speak I will. As long as I got something to say I will speak.
And only when I don’t have anymore to say is when I will
Shut My Mouth.
Narcissus
A boy, Narcissus long ago lived in Greece
Perfect of body, dark hair fine as fleece
The face of an angel, no one could deny
Fair skin, large eyes as blue as the sky
A nymph for a mother, his father a god
Who ruled over all rivers, narrow 'n broad
Narcissus, loved by Apollo the most handsome of men
Would ascend Mount Olympus, to sojourn now 'n then
He dined with Zeus and with gods great and small
As demigods might at an extravagant Grand Ball
One day Narcissus sat in repose by a clear water pond
Looked down at his image and at once grew fond
Of the beauty neath him so at once he did fall
In love with himself, to the exclusion of all
Eyes only for self, this youth did briefly enjoy
But soon grew deluded and sad lonely boy
He faded, withered and would soon die
He lay on his back gazing up at the sky
Saw the form of Apollo looking down from above
A smile on his face, radiating warmth and pure love
Narcissus left his body, his spirit did rise,
No more burdened by beauty, he saw with new-eyes
Looked down at the earth so far below
Saw where he once lay, a flower did grow
A flower devoid of vanity, stately and sound
Blooming, seeding, spreading, soon to be found
By all who love beauty that speaks to one’s heart
Narcissus!
You're now of Earth’s landscape, no longer apart
poem by Ray Lucero
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Breaking Out of Yuma
Has anyone ever noticed?
How abuse chains and prisons their souls?
Leaves them living in the past!
And just like the dust,
Seen with the sun beams shine through the glass
They float there, memory, you inhale pain
And gasp
My friends, my family,
The day has will come
When, you must make a decision.
Break out of those endless prisons!
Face those truths,
Those things that hurt so bad,
They rule your life,
Every time, angry or sad...
I know it's against the law to escape some prisons...
But the abusers put you this one...
It was after all, and against your decision
I too know why, your so angry and mad!
It's time to face them... It's hard to do,
Cause it just hurts so damn bad...
The abuser, they made it your little secret,
They were the ones,
There... Locking that first door.
Then they came back.
Giving you more, and more, and more...
They were the wardens, with the keys.
Robbing youth, innocence,
Ignorings your plea's.
Demolishing, your hearts, souls, and tears...
Adding to your life sentence,
Ten, Twenty, Thirty more years...
They manipulted... it needed to be a secret...
So they tricked you, denile, silence,
Into that fake decision...
Because it was them, that needed
To be in that prison...
And the walls now built... So strong and tall...
It keeps your souls? Safe? Hurt? and Small?
So when you hurt, or your heart can't take anymore,
Your escape, Denile... Clanking shut those big strong doors...
It's the easy-way to escape, retreat to your cell,
They made it, Living already in Yuma, Living Hell...
And when in that prison,
There's is nobody to help, nobody to tell...
The problem is, it locks the wrongs ones, out...
Then they get mad, Claiming no love, and shout...
They plead and cry...Please... Don't lock us out...
so I say it's time...
It's time to break out...
Please its time...
Break out...
You'll find everything you want and more
Happiness, and kindness
But, Only if you break down your own prison doors...
I know it's hard to do
With so much abuse trapped with you...
I know it's hard to admit..
Abuse and all those things...
But within the sounds of silence,
Truths hammers ring...
Those cells. Walls and doors so strong and tight,
Break them down takes all your might...
But when you do, Freedom... Love so pure...
Brilliance white...
And then you can look forward, to the Sunrises...
And in awe, The Milky Way at nights...
Clyde Grant Bryson
7 June 2012
My friends the only way to stop abuse, is speak out about it.
Fight abuse with truth, don't let denile keep the secrets...
Abuser always place the abuse on the victims... and then blame anyone but themselves...
And remember love and kindness can only be recived back if givin out first... so in order to have love, one must give love first in order to recieve love the heart must be prepared back... Love can only be giving from within, and can only be recived from within...
And so it is the same truth with hate, racism, denile... And with that thought, I have givin a lot for you to think about..
poem by Clyde Bryson
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The More We Live - Let Go
You and I can change the world;
The more we live, the more we learn, the more we know.
From this moment on we share the world;
The more we give, the more we love, the more we grow.
The spirit of imagination can lead us through the dark;
The more we see, the more we try, the more we show.
The evidence of our confusion, life has left its mark;
The more we fear, the more we lie, the more we hide.
As we walk into tomorrow
(turning away from the path we know)
Holding the future with our hands
(we carry the weight of the world we go)
Its up to you and I we hold the key; we hold the answers
All our thoughts of doubt and fear are leaving one by one
The more we live, the more we learn, the more we know.
For each of us the road is clear and life has just begun;
The more we give, the more we love, the more we grow.
Its time to reach the goals weve set for ourselves;
The more we fear, the more we lie, the more we hide.
All we need is just to believe in ourselves;
We face the truth, we see it clear, with no disguise.
Cast away our doubt and sorrow
(turning away from the past we know)
The universe at our command
(conserving the fate of the world we grow)
Together you and i, we hold the key to all the answers
Let go
Let go
Let go
Let go
Let go
song performed by by Yes
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The More We Live - Let Go
You and I can change the world;
The more we live, the more we learn, the more we know.
From this moment on we share the world;
The more we give, the more we love, the more we grow.
The spirit of imagination can lead us through the dark;
The more we see, the more we try, the more we show.
The evidence of our confusion, life has left its mark;
The more we fear, the more we lie, the more we hide.
As we walk into tomorrow
(turning away from the path we know)
Holding the future with our hands
(we carry the weight of the world we go)
Its up to you and I we hold the key; we hold the answers
All our thoughts of doubt and fear are leaving one by one
The more we live, the more we learn, the more we know.
For each of us the road is clear and life has just begun;
The more we give, the more we love, the more we grow.
Its time to reach the goals weve set for ourselves;
The more we fear, the more we lie, the more we hide.
All we need is just to believe in ourselves;
We face the truth, we see it clear, with no disguise.
Cast away our doubt and sorrow
(turning away from the past we know)
The universe at our command
(conserving the fate of the world we grow)
Together you and i, we hold the key to all the answers
Let go
Let go
Let go
Let go
Let go
song performed by by Yes
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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What Are We?
WHAT ARE WE?
What are we?
Dust of the earth
Dust of the stars
Thinking dust
Dreaming dust
Loving dust
Dust of Dust
God’s Dust
What are we?
poem by Shalom Freedman
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That Lonely Spring Back Home
what i can bring you
is good news
it is like a fresh flower
from Beijing
it has a unique promise
that it
will never change
it is beauty and
strangeness
it is this feeling of loss
this tragedy of having to
leave and
be back again
to your senses
when all strange places
are not at all strange
but imbued with
all that sameness of rocks
and cities
and dust and bushes
everywhere you go
there is only you and there is
nothing
no one else
that suffers for you
it is the universality that finally
burdens you
with
i have nowhere to hide
it is the same face again that greets
you where
you left that last step
and you remember
that old feeling
that you want to discard
but here it
rises again
like spring of water
wetting your face
with
its lonesome
squirt
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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The Compass.
Angels from Light,
Satan from Fire,
Man from Dust,
Man turns Dust!
Light has no pith,
No marrow in Fire,
Dust has a core;
Hot, cool and pure.
Many a Dimensions,
Millions of Hues,
Moods, Thoughts,
Passions and Emotions,
Only dust has it all.
No Origin, No End,
Still has a Mass;
‘Soul' we call the Compass.
poem by Tajudeen Shah
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Hawkers
Dust, dust, dust and a dog –
Oh! The sheep-dog won’t be last.
When the long, long, shadow of the old bay horse
With the shadow of his mate is cast.
A brick-brown woman with the brick-brown kids,
And a man with his head half-mast,
The feed-bags hung and the bedding slung,
And the blackened bucket made fast
Where the tailboard clings to the tucker and things –
So the hawker’s van goes past.
poem by Henry Lawson
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You Hate me Not
You say you don't hate me,
Yet you slum the door at my face!
You say you don't hate me
Yet your words thrust thro' my heart as a knife to kill me!
You say you don't hate me,
Yet in the dead of night you let me walk all alone!
You say you don't hate me,
Yet you walk past me like you have never known me
You say you don't hate me,
Yet those eyes scream disgust and despise!
You say you don't hate me
Yet the truth I've so wanted to know you have failed to speak
You say you don't hate me
Yet as an enemy you have waged war against me
You say you don't hate me
Yet for reaching out in love you have given deafening Silence
You say you don't hate me,
Yet you never gave me a chance in your heart
You say you don't hate me?
I wonder……
For you have never said you love me
poem by Achieng' Ochieng'
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The Likeness.....
THE MIRROR
limits what we are
there is no shadow
behind us
only the face and the likeness
of it
flat and staring
and clear.
THERE IS
another face at the back of our mind
opaque
silent
and deep
seated sockets
and wavy eyelashes
and well kept hair
and smooth skin
and glowing
WE HAVE NOT
seen much of it
But we shall always feel it
yes,
at the back of our minds
wanting
to find us.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Train
A carriage full of dried moths, faces sour with old leather,
a midnight softness, perhaps a glass in water, slowly,
and you speak of love in the conjunctive,
you would have liked to have known more about me,
but your heart is walled up and full of soot as
roads and fires fly past the windows, they illuminate
half of your face as you speak with care, bloodless and monotone.
You are very reasonable, so sincere, your calm voice as regular as the ticking of wheels on rails, your eyes are railway bells.
But you have a brick in your chest, love`s asthma.
poem by Leslie Philibert
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