En.Citatepedia^®.ro

Remembering You

when i remember you
and when i utter your name
my tongue
a leaf about to wilt
soon regains its green lush
and tendril begin to grow
like roots spreading
down to my throat
reaching the trunk
where my heart
starts to breathe

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Roots And Tendrils Of Our Existence

there is a seed
beneath you

it grows
and you feel it coming out from your mouth

and anus

from your mouth is the tendril
like some form of a hand

and from your anus
roots
spreading down to your feet
trying to make you still
fixed

the tendril stretches and multiplies
and tries to reach the skies
it is pulling you
making you envious to the wings of the
black bird

meanwhile the roots are getting stronger
deeper and
fierce in the silence of its
goal, always, always to fix you
and make you
feel a prisoner of this
earth

two things, two contrasts
between all these

the heart, and now you must choose and listen.

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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I Plucked A Rose From A Garden Green......

By Murtaza Abt

I plucked a rose from a garden green,
Of beauty never felt or seen,
Hoping that it would never wilt,
And always be as always been.

I plucked a rose from a garden green,
with a happy blissful heart,
And promised i would hold it tight,
And never would we part.

I plucked a rose from a garden green,
But little did i know,
That not in endless love and care,
But gardens do they grow.

I plucked a rose from a garden green,
And took it home with me,
But little did it stay the way,
The way t'was meant to be.

I plucked a rose from a garden green,
And it began to grieve,
Over gardens green and meadows lush,
As it was sad to leave.

I plucked a rose from a garden green,
And it began to wilt,
And wither in that unknown land,
it filled my heart with guilt.

I plucked a rose from a garden green,
And it began to die,
For happiness i had only asked,
But i began to cry.

....................................

I have p L ucked y O u from a garden green,
Your beauty i VE never felt or seen,
Hoping that YOU will never wilt,
And always be as always been.

09/Nov/09

poem by Murtaza Abt
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Regaining Freshness

every time that i say your name
my wilting tongue, a leaf about to fall,
slowly regains its green freshness
maybe, not for long, it will slide
back to the branch of my throat
and fall back
to the blooming
petals of my heart

==================================== ======================

Matag litok ko sa imong ngalan,
ang lawos kong dila, dahon
nga hapit na unta matagak,
inanayng nalunhaw pag-usab.
Hayan, dili madugay motidlom kini
balik sa sanga sa akong tutunlan
ug mopatighulog ngadto
sa mao pay pagbukhad
nga biyuos sa akong kasingkasing.

Vicente Bandillo

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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First Leaf

Rain seeps
deep in the ground
and rises up spidery vines,

spreading wide,
reaching to where bud
stretches to green

first leaf.

Famished,
it swallows
the sun.

poem by Steven Federle
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Looking Back At The Greens

i too look back at those green things
from the point of view of my
green thumb
a vegetable garden without an aphid on a leaf
a row of roses, lush green leaves
and red blooms
some petals falling due to the
wind
a line of green mint trees along the path
leading to the highway
sounds of motors threatening what green there is
i come back and settle on this patch
of green meadows
and grass and gray shade
my own shadow cast
on the huge gabi leaf.

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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- Human

Dont you leave me father time
Take me with you
Tell me does your sun still shine
Come squeeze the world and drip it down my throat...oh yeah
Down my throat again....woooah
You got to breathe man, breathe!
Coming up for air
Breathe man, breathe!
Coming up for air
Touch me so I think Im here
Skin my senses
Barely breathing
Minus human
Please squeeze the world and drip it down my throat again
Down my throat again.....woooah
You got to breathe man, breathe!
Coming up for air
Breathe man, breathe!
Coming up for air
You got to breathe man, breathe!
Coming up for air
Breathe man, breathe!
Coming up for!

song performed by by Metallica
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Sorrow Seeks...

Sorrow Seeks...

Sorrow seeks...
Like the roots of weeds
And as the roots grow deeper
the weight descends
Like gnarled hands grasping at your throat
Choking out the beauty within

A dandelion with a face that glows of golden sun
But within the soil it's roots grow so deep
With one pluck you think it is gone for good
Only to return stronger than before
Sorrow seeks...
Like the roots of weeds

4 April 2008

poem by JoJo Bean
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Or Existence

look at you
you take pride of myriad leaves
of branching twigs
of a sturdy trunk

you are saying you are
well rooted
and strong and no
wind is good enough
to uproot you

look at me
i have no roots
i am bald for i have not
a single leaf
from my imaginary
branches
from my twigs which you say
do not exist at all

you laugh and take pride
with what you are
and what you own andwhat you keep

i am invisible and i have no word
that i own

i am not even a wind
since i do not touch your leaf
and cannot let you feel

i do not doubt that it is my mere silence
that horrifies you

and i thank myself
for just being this way

i have no name
i have no self
i merely pass by
and i do not come
back

and so beyond myself and all these
you are nothing too

as i perceived myself to be
not a wind not a sound
nothing about roots

or existence.

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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The Mumble Syndrome (Fun Poem 104)

Do you ever get one of those days
when the brain runs amok
and the tongue won’t get into gear
and all you can utter is gibberish
for the whole world to hear.

I think we all know some politicians
that could easily fit that bill.
They call it the mumble syndrome
and we all get a touch of it sometimes
and always when we least expect it.

The bridegroom at his wedding
gets up to make a toast to his in-laws
when his brain starts to race
and his tongue isn’t quick enough
and he forgets the in-laws name
and starts to toast someone else.

Then there is the proposal
and the guy gets down on one knee
with his delivery ready.
The brain begins to go berserk
and his tongue goes in a different direction.
He begins to ask someone
with a different name if she will marry him.

I remember trying to learn a new dance once
and my wife said to me.
“You weren’t doing it right.”
“But I was, my feet were doing it
but my boots weren’t.”
And the mumble syndrome struck again
only this time with me.

15 July 2009

poem by David Harris
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My Plant is in a Cage

Some of my friends say,
I have green fingers.
I just plant the seed and pray,
and watch, as time lingers.

Grow they do, green and lush
Don't tell no one hush, hush.
cause in Holland we grow 'Mary Jane'
In U.S.A. and Canada it's not quit the same.

The green sage is all the rage,
So I put my green plant in a cage
Locked up tight, 'Motion Detector' on! .
In the morning, no plant will be gone!

poem by David Darbyshire
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Sonnet: Roots Matter

Look, how the cut branches and leaves get dried!
Sometimes, this happens when the Sun's too hot;
With roots intact, the trunk sprouts from its side;
The tree uprooted sure to death is fraught.

Look, how the trunk has sprouted green again!
The tree has started growing with revenge;
Almost a miracle is done by rain;
But this is how Nature tries to avenge.

Our Body, mind draw nourishment from soul;
Our soul if pure is habitat for God;
If not, the evil spirits take this role;
A sinful soul in Heaven would look odd?

Good roots matter if habits good flourish;
God's grace matters for Man's soul to nourish.

poem by John Celes
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Settled in Nettles

I remember climbing nettles-
Nettles climbing our wooden fence,
The excitement of touching,
The thrill of the blisters-
The red and the oozing
Beneath my long sleeves.

I remember nettle necklaces
Burning the fingers that linked
The green leaves- big green leaf
To big green leaf- How
My neck had red blotches
Itchy and sore. I scratched
And then bled and then wore fluffy scarves.

I remember Justin Whiles
Who scrunched up his face and bit
On his lip and tied me with rope
And dragged the green nettles
Over my skin and asked, 'Why
Did we do this again? '

And now in my cabinets are nettles
In jars- jar after jar- big glass
Jars, brimming with nettles,
Their thick green leaves.

And sometimes the night
Gets quiet and cold
And I walk to my cabinets
And pull down the jars
And pull out the nettles
And bite on the leaves
And bite and then chew
And then swallow the leaves-
Leaf after leaf-
Jar after jar-
Till the night's not so silent.
Till I throw up green mulch
In my hands.

poem by Alicia Adams
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Survival Kit

the grass accepts death
of all it has, leaves and roots
its color blends with
the dust and parched mud
cracking surfaces
it also knows to preserve
its species
burying resilient seeds on
the cracks
and when it rains it begins
to grow buds
roots and all and the whole
ground is green again

meanwhile on cracked grounds
where once the pond was
the whiskers of the catfish begin
to wriggle
shedding off mud around its skin
the fish begins to swim

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Asthma

Breathe!
Suffocation within
because of what your sayin'
To understand!
Is to begin again
Yet to Begin!
Is to live again
I tried living my life through your eyes
Smother me with your ways, to death, no breath.
Your choking what little faith I have left.
In time I find the truth lies, Inside the truth lies, Inside
Breathe!
Suffocation within
because of what your sayin'
To understand!
Is to begin again
Yet to Begin!
Is to live again
I would die, to breathe again
I would die, to breathe again
I would die, to breathe again
I would die, to breathe again
Breathe!
Suffocation
I want to Breathe!
Suffocation
I understand
I would die, to breathe again
I would die, to breathe again
Breathe

song performed by by P.O.D.
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Dads job

A father's love,

You plant your seed,

And you watch it grow,

Reaching for the sky,

Coming up from the ground below,

You watch over them,

And guide them with a gentle hand,

You are a father now,

And are finally becoming a man,

You try and learn from your parents,

And try not making any mistakes,

The first time you hold them,

Your knees begin to shake,

And when they go off to school,

Your heart starts to ache,

They are growing fast,

Right before your eyes,

It's not long now before they off on there own,

But that is a father's job,

It is to watch over them,

Until they are all grown,

poem by John Johnson
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Nevertheless

you've seen a strawberry
that's had a struggle; yet
was, where the fragments met,

a hedgehog or a star-
fish for the multitude
of seeds. What better food

than apple seeds - the fruit
within the fruit - locked in
like counter-curved twin

hazelnuts? Frost that kills
the little rubber-plant -
leaves of kok-sagyyz-stalks, can't

harm the roots; they still grow
in frozen ground. Once where
there was a prickley-pear -

leaf clinging to a barbed wire,
a root shot down to grow
in earth two feet below;

as carrots from mandrakes
or a ram's-horn root some-
times. Victory won't come

to me unless I go
to it; a grape tendril
ties a knot in knots till

knotted thirty times - so
the bound twig that's under-
gone and over-gone, can't stir.

The weak overcomes its
menace, the strong over-
comes itself. What is there

like fortitude! What sap
went through that little thread
to make the cherry red!

poem by Marianne Moore
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Evening

The light passes
from ridge to ridge,
from flower to flower—
the hepaticas, wide-spread
under the light
grow faint—
the petals reach inward,
the blue tips bend
toward the bluer heart
and the flowers are lost.

The cornel-buds are still white,
but shadows dart
from the cornel-roots—
black creeps from root to root,
each leaf
cuts another leaf on the grass,
shadow seeks shadow,
then both leaf
and leaf-shadow are lost.

poem by Hilda Doolittle
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220

on your fifth birthday
you will begin to know
what happiness is
you will soon grow
reaching your eleventh
then sorrows begin to show

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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On Your Eleventh Birthday

on your fifth birthday
you will begin to know
what happiness is
you will soon grow
reaching your eleventh
then sorrows begin to show

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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standing alone
under our Chinese pine
I remember you...
its trunk forks out
and roots into the ground

tanka by Chenou Liu
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