En.Citatepedia^®.ro

Reflection 0.l

we live in this same house it is big
and the living room is having three sofas
and the stairs are narrow
like a single bamboo
it is designed in such a way that departure is nil
that we must get inside and never bother thinking about getting out

we know leaving is extremely painful even if there is a promise that someday
wounds can heal and we take pride that we have forgotten
but leaving is a reality it is flood a deluge
and we are invaded with water and we drown
that is how we feel when we speak about stairs and roads

you know i write this because i remember
you see how smooth is my skin and there is no sign that there was once a wound here

it is only you who knows where it is but i will not ask you anymore for details
we speak about something else about the boat the wend sliding smoothly under the bridge and the man that sang you a song when you pass overhead like a bird flying away

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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A Stare

a stare is like a stair
it has steps
and there are feet
walking,
and leaving,

you stare at me,
and i see stairs, where you walk
and climb and stop at the middle
and then take the stairs layer by layer

that is what you like to do, to look at me
as though i am this room where you build the stairs
and you want to go inside my room and lock me up

and take all of me with your tongue and hands and
mouth. You mouth me. And i receive the life you have.

and then your stare subsides. the stair is gone.
the room vanishes. I am free. And you are inside me

your stare has become the memory lingering inside me.
i become a bird and you are inside my wings.
Your stairs become my feathers. Your stare
becomes my eyes.

in love, we make the stairs leading to a house.
and there we feast, and live and sleep.

yes, there are wings and windows.

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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0200 Dementia

Now what did I come upstairs for?

Of course I haven’t forgotten your name,
young lady, it’s just that I can’t remember it

Why am I going upstairs?
I only just got up

No dear, you’re wrong,
I always pay on account

Where’s my bed?
Isn’t this upstairs?

Take the paper back
to the newsagent, someone’s
already done the crossword

Of course I’m undressed,
I just came upstairs

Of course you can sign my name dear,
they know me at the post office

Why is it so dark downstairs,
I’ve only just got up

Why should I give you money for the gas,
Young man? I don’t even know you

I’m sure there are more stairs
than there used to be

Stop being so insulting, young man,
it’s only money

No of course I don’t need help with the stairs,
I know my own house

No dear, you sign for it, I’m sure
your boss will understand

Somebody changed the stairs
when I was out, they
aren’t the same

Why are people so rude about
money these days?

Ask my father to speak
to that young man

The stairs are steeper than they were,
somebody’s changed them

Who are you, I didn’t
ask you to come in…

Of course it’s my house,
it’s just that you changed the stairs

Tell the bank manager to
come and see me in the morning.

Why does that man upstairs
move the stairs at night?

poem by Michael Shepherd
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Sugar Mountain

Oh, to live on sugar mountain
With the barkers and the colored balloons,
You cant be twenty on sugar mountain
Though youre thinking that youre leaving there too soon,
Youre leaving there too soon.
Its so noisy at the fair
But all your friends are there
And the candy floss you had
And your mother and your dad.
Oh, to live on sugar mountain
With the barkers and the colored balloons,
You cant be twenty on sugar mountain
Though youre thinking that youre leaving there too soon,
Youre leaving there too soon.
Theres a girl just down the aisle,
Oh, to turn and see her smile.
You can hear the words she wrote
As you read the hidden note.
Oh, to live on sugar mountain
With the barkers and the colored balloons,
You cant be twenty on sugar mountain
Though youre thinking that youre leaving there too soon,
Youre leaving there too soon.
Now youre underneath the stairs
And youre givin back some glares
To the people who you met
And its your first cigarette.
Oh, to live on sugar mountain
With the barkers and the colored balloons,
You cant be twenty on sugar mountain
Though youre thinking that youre leaving there too soon,
Youre leaving there too soon.
Now you say youre leavin home
cause you want to be alone.
Aint it funny how you feel
When youre findin out its real?
Oh, to live on sugar mountain
With the barkers and the colored balloons,
You cant be twenty on sugar mountain
Though youre thinking that youre leaving there too soon,
Youre leaving there too soon.
Oh, to live on sugar mountain
With the barkers and the colored balloons,
You cant be twenty on sugar mountain
Though youre thinking that youre leaving there too soon,
Youre leaving there too soon.

song performed by by Neil Young
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Little Learning As Time Goes By...

someday you will realize
there is no use of a name
influences fade like rust eating you inside your bones
there are parasites
residing inside your skin
someday you will know
how they survived all these
and then you begin to hate them
then yourself

there is this interlude of despair
the regret of having been born

between us the sea
the sound of the waves
monotonous all day
amidst us is this silence
of the shells
the smooth flow of the sand
that starts
comforting our chaos
deep within our
ears

someday you will learn to blend
with whatever color
and you will no longer search
what you are
and where you are

you are simply here and there
without a fixed point
you are boat designed with no anchor
fearing no ports
neither measureless oceans

someday you realize
that the only reason why we are here is that
we are moving
this departure that knows so well
where hello begins...

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Don't Speak To Me

You are leaving me so
Don't speak to me
Anymore and just walk out the door
leave and please don't look back
I don't want to remember what
You look like
Just leave me in this dark and alonely night
Everything turn out wrong
I feel so blue
I'm just done with you
Just leave me and
Don't speak to me
Our relationship is over
No more romantic, chemistry, dinner, and anniversary
Nothing left to look forward too anymore
We just lose who we are
We never trust each other
I'm just speechless to say anything else
It's time to go our separate paths
Don't speak to me
I can't stand this when we fight
This just too much to handle
I just want to be myself again
So please just go
Don't speak to me

poem by Christina Phan
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The Agony Of An Okada Rider

You have taken away my
means of livelihood.
My means of living confortable.

What is your gain
in my pain?
What is your fame
in my shame?

You say i take lives,
but you have forgotten how
many lifes i have saved.

You say it is a sign of poverty,
but were is the job opportunity?

You say i destroy roads,
but i can't remember seeing any
bike weighing more than a tipper.

You have forgotten how
i eradicate latenessless,
how i pass through traffic
jams without delay.

You have forgotten places
where your public transport
won't take.
Distance where human leg
would trek and ache.

You have forgotten the
helmet you gave.
You have forgotten.

Our little hope,
you have crushed,
leaving this memories
to linger on.

Now i to have to start all
over again.
From grace to grass.

poem by Enebeli Ifyprada
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Art of Ending

Whether beautiful, whether painful
Whether happily ever after, whether full of irony
By force, or by the time
All should end someday

Leaving a hole, leaving a hope
Leaving a cliffhanger, leaving a continuity
Leaving a tragedy, leaving a legend
All could end like this

The journey, the life
The story, the love
The show, the dream
All will come to the end

Whether has been guessed, whether a joke of destiny
A desirable one, an unwanted found
From strongest living, to the smallest creature
All have their own end

Whether sudden, whether prolong
Whether completed, whether unfinished
Whether a relief, whether a torture
All must end here

poem by Maria Sudibyo
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Foreign Country

A foreign country

The flat was on the third floor, three flights of wooden stairs
deep groves from generation of people walking up and down.
In the living room I sat down. Had been away for long no one at
home. The autumn wind blew, the house swayed and creaked
like an old schooner meeting the Atlantic swells.

A simple living room, a few family pictures and an amateur
painting of a row boat in a fjord, boathouse, blue sky and sea,
a far hazy silhouette of a mountain range. The painting was
ominous by its deadness. I got up went down the same stairs;
I had entered, the past and those I knew had gone.

poem by Oskar Hansen
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Did You Say You Make It On The Stairs?

did i really hear you right?
making love on the stairs
and then the boy
comes surprisingly
asking both of you

what are you both doing
on the stairs
both of you naked
while he pumps
on you
like one ever hungry
lover?

how shameful!

well, okay,
the boy is your son
and the man
is your husband

was the bed broken?
or the stairs
too exciting?

was the marriage
too boring?

well, ok,
i understand,
you split with him

could be the
staggering steps on the stairs
could be that the boy
finally understands

could be that the bed
is not that warm

you split for good
and uhuh?
so you are now free
at last

from those stairs
from the bed

and the boy has to make
the inevitable choice
between pa and ma

the stairs he will always remember
anyhow
yes, the boy not the pa

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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That Stairs That Must Lead Us Home...

building those stairs
that lead to the gates of the
heavens
in the skies?

how funny can that be
if not
impossible

what about the simplest stairs
that lead us to the
living room of
the house that we may call
as home?

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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God can be realized through all paths. All religions are true. The important thing is to reach the roof. You can reach it by stone stairs or by wooden stairs or by bamboo steps or by a rope. You can also climb up by a bamboo pole.

quote by Ramakrishna
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Smooth

i want words
to be smooth

smoothly said
and smoothly
understood

like rum sliding
in my throat
directly inside
my belly

smooth as tiles
on the floor
effervescent as
your breath in
my mouth.

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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House Of Stairs I

A woman is
A house
With many exits
And stairs
Some they lead
Somewhere,
Other leads no where.

And you
Lady,
You are a house
Dry and dark,
Your house does not
Need neither exits
Nor down or up
Horizontal,
Vertical,
Waving, or
Flying
Stairs

poem by Atef Ayadi
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The Mastery Of Familiarity

it is a matter of
familiarity

the caresses of the
hands of time always

give us the mastery of
what we take and give away

the windows let the winds
come and go
without so much
hassle

at first the stairs are
adamant about the steps that
come up and much often go down
and never make the footfalls
stay

it is a matter of use and disuse
you master the common art of abuse

the sense of coming and going
of arriving and leaving becomes

a way of life and so where is
sorrow? the sound of sighs?

at the train station
there are no more sad stories
about the coming of the train &
about its synchronized leaving

these are daily occurrences
anyway
and there is nothing
significant about them anymore

in the house where we live
we do not talk about these matters
as they have become so repetitive
and hence so boring....

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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A House Is Not A Home

(burt bacharach / hal david)
A chair is still a chair
Even though theres no-one sitting there
But a chair is not a house
And a house is not a home
When theres no-one there to hold you tight
And no-one there you can kiss goodnight
A room is still a room
Even though theres nothing there but gloom
But a room is not a house
And a house is not a home
When the two of us are far apart
And one of us has a broken heart
Now and then I call your name
And suddenly your voice appears
But its just a crazy game
When it ends, it ends in tears
Darling, have a heart
Dont let one mistake keep us apart
Im not meant to live alone
Turn this house into a home
When I climb the stairs
And turn the key
Oh, please be there
Still in love with me
Im not meant to live alone
Turn this house into a home
When I climb the stairs
And turn the key
Oh, please be there
Still in love with me

song performed by by Dusty Springfield
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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When Evil Comes

I don? like this anymore than you
In fact I? scared
At the top of the stairs in the dark
Throw away all the dreams you had
Slow and broke
And just for you
You were barely there
Hey little girl where? your momma gone
Has she left you scared
At the top of the stairs
In the dark
It? too late for come backs
And I?e been wrong before
Now I need
I need no more
Except for you
Making up the sides
Evil is when evil comes
At the top of the Stairs
At the top of the Stairs
And in the dark
The world won? listen
And it gets this scared
Standing there at the top of the stairs
In the dark
Come on baby
Let? lose this fear
And let? stand here
Where it? always fair
And never dark

song performed by by Ocean Colour Scene
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Seperate Lives

You called me from the room in your hotel
All full of romance for someone that you met
And telling me how sorry you were, leaving so soon
And that you miss me sometimes when youre alone in your room
Do I feel lonely too?
You have no right to ask me how I feel
You have no right to speak to me so kind
We cant go on just holding on to time
Now that were living separate lives
Well I held on to let you go
And if you lost your love for me, well you never let it show
There was no way to compromise
So now were living (living)
Separate lives
Ooh, its so typical, love leads to isolation
So you build that wall (build that wall)
Yes, you build that wall (build that wall)
And you make it stronger
Well you have no right to ask me how I feel
You have no right to speak to me so kind
Some day I might (I might) find myself looking in your eyes
But for now, well go on living separate lives
Yes for now, well go on living separate lives
Separate lives

song performed by by Phil Collins (1985)
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Separate Lives

You called me from the room in your hotel
All full of romance for someone that you met
And telling me how sorry you were, leaving so soon
And that you miss me sometimes when youre alone in your room
Do I feel lonely too?
You have no right to ask me how I feel
You have no right to speak to me so kind
We cant go on just holding on to time
Now that were living separate lives
Well I held on to let you go
And if you lost your love for me, well you never let it show
There was no way to compromise
So now were living (living)
Separate lives
Ooh, its so typical, love leads to isolation
So you build that wall (build that wall)
Yes, you build that wall (build that wall)
And you make it stronger
Well you have no right to ask me how I feel
You have no right to speak to me so kind
Some day I might (I might) find myself looking in your eyes
But for now, well go on living separate lives
Yes for now, well go on living separate lives
Separate lives

song performed by by Phil Collins
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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She's Leaving Home

Wednesday morning at five o'clock
As the day begins
Silently closing her bedroom door
Leaving the note that she hoped would say more
She goes downstairs to the kitchen
Clutching her handkerchief
Quietly turning the back door key
Stepping outside she is free
She (we gave her most of our lives)
Is leaving (sacrificed most of our lives)
Home (we gave her everything money could buy)
She's leaving home after living alone for
So many years (bye bye)
Father snores as his wife gets into her dressing gown
Picks up the letter that's lying there
Standing alone at the top of the stairs
She breaks down and cries to her husband
Daddy our baby's gone
Why would she treat us so thoughtlessly
How could she do this to me
She (We never thought of ourselves)
Is leaving (never a thought for ourselves)
Home (we struggled hard all our lives to get by)
She's leaving home after living alone for
So many years (bye bye)
Friday morning at nine o'clock she is far away
Waiting to keep the appointment she made
Meeting a man from the motor trade
She (what did we do that was wrong)
Is having (we didn't know it was wrong)
Fun (fun is the one thing that money can't buy)
Something inside that was always denied for
So many years (bye bye)
She's leaving home (bye bye)

song performed by by Kate Bush
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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True Ways Of Knowing

Not an ounce excessive, not an inch too little, out easy reciprocations.
You let me know the way a boat would feel, if it could feel, the intimate support of water.

The news you bring me has been news forever, so that I understand what a stone would say if only a stone could speak. Is it sad a grassblade cannot know how it is lovely?

Is it sad that you can't know, except by hearsay (My gossiping failing words) that you are the way a water is that can clench it's palm and crumple a boat's confiding timbers?

But that's excessive and too little. Knowing the way a circle would describe its roundness, we touch two selves and feel, complete and gentle the intimate support.

The way that flight would feel a bird flying (if it could feel)is the way space that's in a stone that's in water would know itself

If it had our way of knowing.

poem by Norman MacCaig
Submitted by Dan Costinaş
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