Remembering A Summer Fling
we were short of pillows
and blankets
and it was raining hard
and so cold
inside an empty room
in fact
antiquated, abandoned
and dilapidated
windows
where we hear the
thunder and see
the lightning
cast two shadows
fusing as one
in fast motion
two short lived
and swift
but i can still
prettily remember
the sweet scent
of our sweat
the moaning sounds
drowned by the
heavy rain
and the silence
of bliss
which reigned
after
we left early
morning
since then
there is no
word for
each of us
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Related quotes
A Rain To Remember!
Rain lashed out with lightning and thunder!
For every lightning phone also rang without fail!
It continued till I switched off light and went to bed!
Next day morning some death news due to lightning came!
Storm has dissipated but rain lashed now and then;
It's raining time nothing can stop it from falling!
Today there is complete silence prevailing!
Night is cold and wind has stopped after evening
Yet rain warning is given and is expected for 24 hours!
The summer drought without rain is causing so heavy rain now!
Farming fields without rain crops are waiting for rain
A week's rain at least will make it okay now!
When there is no rain we cry for it and when it is there we don't want
Whether we say this or that rain will do the best it can when it comes!
poem by Ramesh T A
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Intimacy....
it is more
in the mind, and so the brain
makes a room
for us
two,
we shut up the mouth of
the universe
we fall short of the words
which we have mastered
it is the moan
of loneliness meeting another
moaning of
emptiness
glasses are made full and then
we empty them
and then we fill them all again
with what
we cannot really fully
comprehend
we have thrown away everything
shed off clothes, skin,
thoughts
wind to wind and rain to rain
and then in the silence of the room
after
sunlight slowly creeps in
from the
shutters of our
windows...
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Outside And Inside
this early morning
the rains are raging
outside is a rampage of
blown leaves and trees
you are afraid may
finally be uprooted
in the room
the brown dog sleeps
beside a wooden wall
on the floor
the glass doors
& windows are closed
the silence reigns
inside you begin
on another journey
you began last night
on some short breaths
until you think
you had a nice sleep
inside there is something
that rages
it is not the wind or the rain
it is something else
that you want to know
more & more
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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When She Already Catches A Putco Bus At Four
When early at four o’clock in the morning
she has to catch a Putco bus to her work
there is smoke hanging over the shacks,
for a while she walks over the wet veldt,
as the morning star appears and she shivers
from the cold that is icy, see a snake
sailing over the ground and she is scared,
nothing is defiling the early silence
and later with the roaring of the bus
where the headlights of it is very bright
like searchlights, blazing, cutting through the dark
she can still rest for another short while in bliss
before the daily exhausting duties,
that short moment passes far too quickly.
poem by Gert Strydom
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18 Definitions Of A Short Poem
1) A short poem
Saves time,
2) A short poem
Saves time
For its reader, also.
3) A short poem is over
Before its read.
4) A short poem
Can be swiftly reread.
5) A short poem
Is a lightning flash.
6) A short poem
Is one metaphor only.
7) A short poem
Is less than nine words.
8) A short poem
Opens ones eyes
In the morning.
9) A short poem
May be a short prayer.
10) A short poem
May be a poem of a single word.
11) Poem.
12) A short poem
A small play on words.
13) A short poem
May be a single sentence.
14) A short poem is shorter
Than the definition of it.
15) It breaks up the icy sea within.
16) A chill down the spine.
17) There is no end
To making definitions of the short poem.
18) A short poem in Hebrew
Is shorter than than the same poem in English.
poem by Shalom Freedman
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Rain Is Falling
(rain rain, go away, come again another day)
Early in the morning
The sun was up and the sky was very blue
Without a warning
As I looked out, my thoughts returned to you.
A noise in the city made the children run
And hide themselves away
And thunder boomed and lightning filled the sky.
Looking from this window
A thousand rivers running past my door
Standing on an island
Looking for someone upon the shore
I cane see it very clearly, nothings really changed
Then lightning strikes across an empty sky.
Chorus:
Ooohh, the rain is falling
Ooohh, the rain is falling
Ooohh, the rain is falling
Will it wash away the lonely tears?
(its raining, its pouring, the old man is snoring)
With their brand new time transporter
Theyll think maybe I fought to get away
But with all their great inventions
And all their good intentions, here I stay
Down on the corner where the sun had shone
The people gathered round
Then scattered as the raindrops hit the ground.
Repeat chorus:
(its raining, its pouring, the old man is snoring)
Repeat chorus:
(its raining, its pouring, the old man is snoring)
(rain rain, go away, come again another day)
song performed by by Electric Light Orchestra
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Animation
thunder assumes life
of the male genitalia ruling the evening
the houses are the recipients of its fury
the bliss of the other strikes
the roofs of those who remain indifferent
to its invasion
there are sounds of moaning of the wind
but the windows know how to pretend
that they are all dead
lightning tries to provide the electricity
of the lapses
but the doors like the windows
also know how to pretend
like the house.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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The Witch In The Old Castle Nearby...
as you, foolish dog of my life,
my life in utter peace, a pond of less ripples,
as you, stupid dog of my life
barks at my feet, and tries to distract my own
solitude, that of the candle still in the middle
of my room, the blankets soft on my bed,
the pillows all too silent like flower petals
on a dew filled morning leaf,
as you, twitchy wicked witch
calls my name, i finally give up and
face myself, and leave you, all cracked up,
and i go inside my room and lock my door
and tell my windows, to shut you up,
do not ruin my life, do not ever attempt to do
that which creases my blankets and
stabs my pillows,
for i shall return to you and burn your
furrowed faces, dissolve you in the acids
of my test tubes,
erase you like some misspelled words,
i am a man of peace, and i am stone.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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A House Full Of Peace
no laughter from children
no conversations from visitors
a couple not on terms with each other
closed doors and windows
dusty slippers
empty thermos bottles
rusty door knobs
unused toothpaste
hard water
unfolded blankets
cold pillows
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Dead Poets
dead poets; old cars
junked in heaps
in front of
abandoned houses...
empty mailboxes
rusting to the
ground...
empty swings creaking
in the late evening breeze;
a bottle of wine,
half-empty,
moans in the shadows.
the fields have been picked,
nothing left, but sweat stained dirt....
even the embers have grown cold,
and the pot is empty.
the sounds and smells of living
linger by unmarked stones...
dead poets; old cars...
running on empty!
poem by Eric Cockrell
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Heavy Rain
Heavy rain, lightning too
Heavy rain, when Im with you
Seems like a thousand years
Since we both felt free
Weve seen a million faces
All staring at you and me
But just like humphrey bogart said
Before he passed out on his bed
Heres looking at you kid
And the rocky road ahead
Heavy rain, lightning too
Heavy rain when Im with you
You know the thunder comes like a lions roar
But it leaves me now
When you walk out the door
Listen to that northern wind
Its singing a sad old song
A melody so sick and tired
Been blowing much too long
Aint it time to feel the weather change
You know its overdue
Love is gone, we cant go on
Pretending old is new
Rain down
And the daylight comes
As a sweet surprise
Heavy rain
Filling up my eyes
Heavy rain
song performed by by Hall & Oates
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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1: 38 Dawn...
inside the room
divided by the light brown drapes
between me and the window
beyond the steel gates
is the world... it is cold and dark
and there is no one
walking on the road...i peep
and let the cold wind
enter the orifice of
my nostrils...it is cold and dark
and there is no one in this house...
everyone is either asleep
or gone away for good,
their names are listed and
there are some
short biographies...this must
be a little scary
says the listening wall...
it is. Sickness confronts
the eyes of those who want to
write some short notes
of their brief stay
or visit as you want to call it...
Eye to eye, in the most silent
silence, the man in his usual
black robe,
through his hands
speak.
and the world trembles
we want to kneel and ask for more
but nothing
shall be given.... that is a
fact.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Walls Of Red Wing
Oh, the age of the inmates
I remember quite freely:
No younger than twelve,
No older n seventeen.
Thrown in like bandits
And cast off like criminals,
Inside the walls,
The walls of red wing.
From the dirty old mess hall
You march to the brick wall,
Too weary to talk
And too tired to sing.
Oh, its all afternoon
You remember your home town,
Inside the walls,
The walls of red wing.
Oh, the gates are cast iron
And the walls are barbed wire.
Stay far from the fence
With the lectricity sting.
And its keep down your head
And stay in your number,
Inside the walls,
The walls of red wing.
Oh, its fare thee well
To the deep hollow dungeon,
Farewell to the boardwalk
That takes you to the screen.
And farewell to the minutes
They threaten you with it,
Inside the walls,
The walls of red wing.
Its many a guard
That stands around smilin,
Holdin his club
Like he was a king.
Hopin to get you
Behind a wood pilin,
Inside the walls,
The walls of red wing.
The night aimed shadows
Through the crossbar windows,
And the wind punched hard
To make the wall-siding sing.
Its many a night I pretended to be a-sleepin,
Inside the walls,
The walls of red wing.
As the rain rattled heavy
On the bunk-house shingles,
And the sounds in the night,
They made my ears ring.
til the keys of the guards
Clicked the tune of the morning,
Inside the walls,
The walls of red wing.
Oh, some of usll end up
In st. cloud prison,
And some of usll wind up
To be lawyers and things,
And some of usll stand up
To meet you on your crossroads,
From inside the walls,
The walls of red wing.
song performed by by Bob Dylan
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Leaking Roof
it is raining and here i am stuck
under the roof of a deserted house
the windows are open
nobody has come to close four windows
looking to the street like an insomniac,
the door is creaky like a sore throat
sounding like an incurable allergic sneeze
the crazy wind bangs it from time to time
and i do not mind the routine of noise
for a while a walk to and fro
like i am making a picket
observing the details of how a deserted house
can look like
or feel like: there seems to be a growling silence
abbreviating itself like a scream
cut short by my hands kept inside my pocket
i look up and see the leaking roof
making a rhythm of the dripping beat
of this poem.
i have nothing in mind, i am empty
and emptying still. I take in so much quantity
of silence, the weight of thoughts,
the silly purposeless probe
of what i am suppose to be and where i must be going
after this temporariness of loafing.
The rain stops. I am leaving.
The rhythm ceases.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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For A Friend Who Is Also Struggling Out There
it is still 3 o'clock in the afternoon. iT is raining heavily
outside as we still keep busy with our own business
inside this courtroom.
two lawyers arguing on a point. I am listening.
the accused sits there, his life is at stake.
the mother is tense. two mothers.
THE mother of the complainant
who cries that her daughter is a victim
of rape.The mother of the accused who rebuts
that his son is just framed-up by the real
culprits who are still-at-large.
the glass windows of the court
muted the sound of the heavy rain.
but the way the trees are swaying to and fro
like a pendulum of a grandfather's clock
very well tells that there is a bad weather
outside this courtroom.
a river of faces faces me. i look at the eyes
of the room, the windows cased in glass
as the rain is maimed wanting to get in
as though trying to say that it has also
something to say about the matters
discussed inside this closed room.
the world is always asking, what is the truth?
it reminds us, there is only one truth and the
rest are lies. I keep on trying to learn from it.
the argument has always been:
everyone is a victim, and no one wins this game
of a legal play. sometimes the guilty is set free
and the innocent is put to prison.
there will be cries of the wind. In a closed court
like this, one cannot really hear the sound of its cries.
I am trying to figure out. Each word. The words of the
wind and the muted sounds of the rain.
THE hammer shall fall and it shall fall heavily.
Can this poem help me? Are emotions aids?
Many mouths shall shape the words. Each lip makes
a reading of itself. There will be whispers and murmurs.
There will be calls and cries and hounding sounds.
I sleep at night soundly. My conscience shall be my pillow.
There will be dreams handed to me by the gods.
As i write this, think also of my own journey, my own sorrows.
In the battles outside and inside us, a closed room vis-a-vis
the outside cries of the wind and the rain, i want to simply tell you, , ,
keep moving on. We move on too, with our own busy lives.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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The rain
Three in the morning
Of the next day
Sleep gave way
To the sounds of rain
The rain makes many sounds
Outside my window
The rained echoed
As it bounced off
The metal down spout
It makes an empty hollow sound
Sweetly permeating in my room
Reminding me of you
The first time we met
My dear lady
We were caught
In a warm down pour
Of the rain
Today I will see you again
I lay here thinking patiently
Seeing the streaks light
Of the early morning hours
When all seems to be at rest
With quietness and solitude
Now Interrupted by the rain
poem by Howard Johnson
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This Kiss - Faith Hill
vs.1 I don't want another heartbreak,
I don't need another turn to cry, no.
I don't want to learn the hard way,
Baby hello, oh no, goodbye.
But you got me like a rocket,
Shooting straight across the sky.
(chorus)
It' s the way you love me,
It's a feeling like this.
It's centrifugal motion,
It's perpetual bliss.
It's that pivotal moment,
It's, ah, impossible.
This kiss, this kiss!
Unstoppable.
This kiss, this kiss!
vs.2 Cinderella said to Snow White,
'How does love get so off course?
All I wanted was a white knight,
With a good heart, soft touch, fast horse.
Ride me off into the sunset.
Baby I'm forever yours.'
(chorus)
It's the way you love me,
It's a feeling like this.
It's centrifugal motion,
It's perpetual bliss.
It's that pivotal moment,
It's, ah unthinkable.
This kiss, this kiss!
Unsinkable.
This kiss, this kiss!
You can kiss me in the moonlight,
On the rooftop under the sky, oh.
You can kiss me with the windows open,
While the rain comes pouring inside, oh.
Kiss me in sweet slow motion,
Let's let everything slide,
You got me floating,
You got me flying.
(chorus)
It's the way you love me,
It's a feeling like this.
It's centrifugal motion,
It's perpetual bliss.
It's that pivotal moment,
It's (ah) subliminal.
This kiss, this kiss!
It's criminal.
This kiss, this kiss!
It's the way you love me, baby,
It's the way you love me, darlin'.
(chorus)
It' s the way you love me,
It's a feeling like this.
It's centrifugal motion,
It's perpetual bliss.
It's that pivotal moment,
It's (ah) subliminal.
This kiss, this kiss!
It's criminal.
This kiss, this kiss!
It's the way you love me, baby,
It's the way you love me, darlin'.
poem by Rebecca Ryan
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Thunder And Lightning
THUNDER AND LIGHTNING I thought it was love
That hurt so bad,
But all of this time I was a fool being had.
Now it's the last stop for you, baby,
On my gravy train.
Well, I don't understand
How I could be so short of memory,
How I could just leave my pride in the rain.
No more thunder and lightning.
Nobody's gonna wrap me 'round their finger.
No more thunder and lightning.
Ain't gonna let you treat me like a prisoner.
You played with my mind,
Baby, much too long.
You played with my head
Until all feelin' was gone.
Now I'm out of patience and money,
And my heart is numb.
You kept me in the dark,
But now I finally see some daylight.
I've got a chance.
I'm gonna run, baby, run.
No more thunder and lightning.
Nobody's gonna wrap me 'round their finger.
No more thunder and lightning.
Ain't gonna let you treat me like a prisoner.
Nobody's gonna pull this thing back together.
It's too far out of hand.
If you wanna give it one more try,
Try it with another man.
[Guitar Interlude]
No more thunder and lightning.
Nobody's gonna wrap me 'round their finger.
No more thunder and lightning.
Ain't gonna let you treat me like a prisoner.
[Repeat Chorus]
song performed by by Richard Marx
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Do You Remember?
I left my life with you, do you remember?
That hollow day of sharpened rain and even sharper words.
Each step I took away from you, each leaden pace, defeated me.
Your voice, once soft and lyrical, now cold and forged from steel.
I left my heart with you, do you remember?
The days of love we'd shared lay smashed and littered with accusations.
Those eyes in which I'd often bathed, now but a swollen tempest,
Your smile, which made the Sun shine bright, now turned to blackened stone.
I left my dreams with you, do you remember?
Sweet promises we'd made, of carefree days and endless love,
Now turned to words that liars speak, meaningless and empty.
Your touch, once warm and gentle, now sharp as razor blades.
I left my faith with you, do you remember?
The trust entwined with love and understanding,
Now mixing with the sodden earth to build a final resting place.
Your kiss, once sweet with promise, now poisoned with Goodbye.
I thought that you would seek me out one day, and bring my treasures back to me,
But No!
I've lived bereft of life
I've lived with silence in my breast
I've lived with black and dreamless sleep
I've lived a faithless, loveless life.
I left it all with you.
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _
poem by Owain Glyn
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Blank, Numb, Floating
it is 1: 55 a.m.
i hear the rain falling
she is fast asleep tired of the demands of her day
i leave her and she takes the pillow for me
i turn on the light
and see this room of books and paperworks
i turn on the computer
i am feeling nothing and i am floating like i am but a spirit
i am numb and i am feeling so dumb
i see this blank wall
i am feeling so empty
i look at her again
she utters words in her sleep and i will not wake her up
i lay my hands on the keys
run my fingers on some letters
there is nothing to write
in particular but there is something to run my fingers on
this feeling
this attempt to imitate the sound of the rain in letters
to put the motion of the rain to put its smell
to be wet and to have the rain run over me
all over me all over me all over me all over me
blank, numb, floating and wet
this is the poem now
at 2: 03 a.m.
it has gained finally this form
and scent and motion and color
that you have never seen
or felt the way
i do.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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