Same Ending...
stories about the lives
of people
i've read them
throughout the night
after work
i hear no footsteps now
on the road
where this window
faces
the trees are as still
as a picture
of trees in colored
books
it is still the usual
sameness of
things arranged
every day and
night
a dog sits
beside my feet with
my brown socks still on
fitting themselves
on yellow
rubber slippers
it is the same ending
composing a
poem like this one
that you are reading
there is no option to
be unique
or different or
outstanding
so you can notice
what i am
not or what can i
be in the
next few minutes
i have no other ambition
but to take another
sound sleep
tonight and so
we have to part ways
again
it is my night now
as another morning in
you begins
to unfold like an umbrella
that you have to take
because you have
conceived another
rain...
well, rain is a good
beginning
as a sound sleep that
visits a very tired man
makes a good
same ending.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Related quotes
Solemn night, Good night.
The day ends again once more.
We talked and chatted much.
So blissful like a happy folklore,
So simple and joyful an ending touch
True is that the stars sing.
The sun woken up and
The moon dance along
When you say good night.
May night be the most beautiful for you.
So that you may submerge in your slumber
When others come, you won't have a clue.
Only that sound sleep and my goodnight
you remember.
An unforgettable velvet sky in the night.
Never my night I thought so much until
in a solemn night, you say good night.
Sleep well. Good night My Dear.
poem by Felius Yuseli
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Hush Darling
Hush darling
I am tired
I need to sleep
Because it is late
Hush darling
Darling try to get some sleep also
I am not trying to be rude to you
But I need my sleep
And so you
Darling
If we both don't get our sleep
We won't be able to function properly the next day
It is so important for us to have our sleep
The sound of the rain
Help us to fall sleep
It is a rainy night
Thundering outside
And the rain is falling hard
While we sleep
In this bed
Hush darling
Can you hear the sound of the rain?
Hush darling so we both can hear it
poem by Aldo Kraas
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Like The Rain
I never liked the rain until I walked through it with you
Every thunder cloud that came was one more I might not get through
On the darkest day theres always light and now I see it too
But I never liked the rain until I walked through it with you
I hear it falling in the night and filling up my mind
All the heavens rivers come to light and I see it all unwind
I hear it talking through the trees and on the window pane
And when I hear it I just cant believe I never liked the rain
Like the rain I have fallen for you and I know just why you
Liked the rain always calling for you Im falling for you now
Just like the rain
When the cloud is rolling over thunder striking me
Its as bright as lightning and I wonder why I couldnt see
That its always good and when the flood is gone we still remain
Guess Ive known all along I just belong here with you falling
Like the rain I have fallen for you and I know just why you
Liked the rain always calling for you, Im falling for you now
Just like the rain I have fallen for you
Im falling for you know just like the rain
And when the night falls on our better days
And were looking to the sky
For the winds to take us high above the plains
I know that well find better ways to look into the eye
Of the storms that will be calling
Forever well be falling
Like the rain I have fallen for you, and I know just why you
Like the rain always calling for you, Im falling for you now just
Like the rain I have fallen for you and I know just why you
Like the rain always calling for you, Im falling for you now just
Like the rain I have fallen for you and I know just why you
Like the rain always calling for you, Im falling for you now just
Like the rain
Like the rain
Like the rain
Like the rain
Like the rain
Like the rain
song performed by by Clint Black
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Rain, Rain
Rain, rain has spilt from above the skies,
Little has been in the head of sleep
From the night and the day has also been in sleep.
Rain, it spelt a wrong session of work and shine
From the sun, from a star that inspired us with wind and rain.
Rain! I say to clouds and sun, do rain
And still I wept from too much sleep,
The slept one is me, and I have been in reign of my day
And night.
poem by Naveed Akram
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The First Long Rainy Night
it is the first long rainy night tonight.
now i can sleep
satisfied about its own explanation
whey the day
had been so, so hot.
i turn the air conditioner off
and listen to the most real poem of nature
the first long rainy night tonight.
the sound of rain on my roof.
the sound of water dripping
on the side of the house
that feeling of being hard and wet
beside her.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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The Sounds
i heard the sound of the clock ticking
some things come
i am remembering these some things
burnt, and melting in my forehead,
i like the sound of the ticking of grandfather's
clock at night, i hear footsteps
and drippings of water
from the gutter to the floor
the window is closed and the wind makes
the sound of someone caught between
door jambs, creaking sounds creeping
on the wall, something is terrible, really terrible
and i turn my body to the left side,
there is this storm, and the strong rain comes
with the grunting wind, and trees are falling
unto each other, i hear leaves and twigs,
and the roof wanting to leave the house,
something is terribly happening on this night
of the suicidal darkness, the shimmer of the river
looks like a stainless knife
who's there? i ask the door. The mirror on the other
side answers, how dare you?
it is nobody. it is just myself, my mouth answers.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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He Does Not Sleep That Well At Night
He does not sleep that well at night though his troubles are small
The possums walking on his roof the rats squeak in the wall,
The boobook owl is crying mopoke on the trees across the way
He used to sleep without once waking till after break of day.
He does not sleep that well at night his wife beside him snore
He lay beside her wide awake for three hours sometimes more
The moon shines through the window pane he hear the plover cry
And the hunting fox is barking in the old paddock nearby.
He does not sleep that well at night he lay in bed awake
And the voices of the nocturnal creatures he cannot mistake
The frogs are singing in the ponds to tell that rain is near
And occasionally the barking of the neighbourhood dogs he hear.
He goes to bed at ten o clock but he doesn't get to sleep till around two
Although he must get up to go to work at seven still his worries seem so few
Compared to some who do sleep well with him it used not to be this way
He often slept for ten hours straight till after break of day.
poem by Francis Duggan
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Night Slumming
Written by John Mellencamp
(Night Slumming - burp 123)
Well good evening to, the dirty bordellos
And good evening to, the girls who work uptown
And say hello, well hello, to the gay young fellows
Who make their love, on the meat rack
In their sister's gowns
Well I ain't no king, but I ain't no princess
And I don't get drunk, no no
But I can still be blown away
The phantom lover of the future
And I don't go to work
'Cause I sleep all through the day
Talkin' 'bout
*Night, night, night, night slummin'
Night, night, night, night slummin'
Night, night, night, night slummin'
So when you see me tonight
I'd be reaching the heights
so were coming
I never counted on ...
All the good things have been taken away from me
Aww, heavy or hard, I know those younger punches
Cause tonight is another day for destiny
Well the damage is done, hey I can't really feel it
Well I don't fault your love and
The bathroom stains, oh yeah
And its a little too fast and dieing too young
That's what we're talking about
Well it's this slummin' that makes me
Stop to think
(*Repeat Chorus)
Night, night, night, night slummin'
Night, night, night, night slummin'(goodnight)
Night, night, night, night slummin'(yeah, yeah)
song performed by by John Mellencamp
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Interactive Poetry
when i wake up this morning
sleep is still sleeping
and i slip out of the blanket
not to disturb sleep which
is still soundly snoring
last night we did not pretend
that we were two dead people
sleep was tightly curled upon itself
its arms were not around me
and i could not remember anymore
exactly
whatever happened
to me
or us
if there ever be
this morning
sleep is dead
and i survive
to meet another face of death
in the kitchen
and also in the rest room
and also outside the house
into the road and in the office
where i am working
there are so many faces of death
in my own world
and i am not the loyal subject of sleep
which is death's younger sister
neither am i a friend of death
nor its foe
for out of this everyday encounter
death becomes nothing
but another furniture in the hall
another rock in the garden
part of the numerous leaves in the air
one of those many ' its'
that does not
really disturb me anymore
tonight i will sleep with sleep again
(it is dead and unburied)
i do not name sleep for you
since i too does not know about its true details
or identity
its name its age
when it was born
though i know exactly when it really died
as i have already told you
and what totally is it exactly
the whole truth about its snores and sleep walks and talks
its secrets inside those thick blankets
for in truth in this journey
we sleep with sleep
most of the time
(do i hear ninety percent approving?)
we do not know much of it anyway
or frankly
much less
perhaps
at any rate
(and this may have bored you
to an ending that
bears no significance to your present work)
how can we be interested with such an ordinary matter
that occurs
every minute of the hour?
and what is it that is really worth
writing and
understanding in this world
that does not listen?
(do i hear 95% of you screaming?)
poem by Sebastian Soberania
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The Storm
The clouds turned to gray
The air turned to cold
And I knew by that day
Some evil would unfold.
It arrived without a warning
Along with the pounding rain
And it was gone by the morning
As violently as it came.
But for that night I lived in terror
That night I lived in fright
With every sound I heard
With every flash of light.
Violently came the wind
Terrorizing with no form
Then came the thunder and lightning,
Arriving, was the storm.
Many trees I saw bent
Then God clapped his mighty hand
While many trees were refusing to fall,
But then, a tree didn't stand.
Rushing came the wind
Pounding came the rain
Crashing came the thunder
Quickly, came my pain.
Underneath my bed I hid
From the terror of the storm
And in pain and terror I cried
In horror and pain I moaned.
That night I lived in terror
That night I lived in fright
With every sound I heard
With every flash of light.
And the rain just kept falling
More tears I began to weep
For the wind just kept calling,
Then that night; I fell asleep.
Then morning she finally came
I awoke to the sound of peace and birds
The sound of thunder and rain was gone
Which had awoke my sleeping world.
Then outside towards the sky I stared,
To the clouds God he did call
I saw Gods hand moving the wind
Commanding the rain not to fall.
Then the sun began to shine
So on my knees I fell to pray
Then again, I began to cry
Thanking God; the storm had went away.
poem by Randy McClave
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Good-Night
THE lark is silent in his nest,
The breeze is sighing in its flight,
Sleep, Love, and peaceful be thy rest.
Good-night, my love, good-night, good-night.
Sweet dreams' attend thee in thy sleep,
To soothe thy rest till morning's light,
And angels round thee vigil keep.
Good-night, my love, good-night, good-night.
Sleep well, my love, on night's dark breast,
And ease thy soul with slumber bright;
Be joy but thine and I am blest.
Good-night, my love, good-night, good-night.
poem by Paul Laurence Dunbar
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Walking The Baby Early Morning
early morning when the sun
shines mildly still behind the
green trees when the dew
still hangs on the blades of
the grass when the road is
still wet with the rain last
night
it is at this moment when
you walk the baby and you
hold his hand and you hear
him giggle
such a lovely picture of love
and a new beginning.......
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Rain Fallin
(charlie black)
Rain fallin,fallin rain
Its a long and troubled night
A night when I wish I could sleep
But theres no sleep inside
Heart breaking, breaking heart
Its such a lonely sound
That cries for the need of someone
But theres no one around
Chorus:
Nobody here to hold
No one to warm the cold
That lies deep within my soul
All around, just the sound of the
Rain falling, fallin rain
Like gentle tears of pain
That comes with my only friend
Its the gently falling rain
Repeat chorus
song performed by by Reba Mcentire
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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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 Heavy Rain...
as i watch the heavy rain
by my window
i write this poem
every word is like a rain
every sound
every coldness here is rain
every loneliness is rain
and unless you are here
beside me
you can never feel this rain
as you read each word
you still wonder
what is rain, how does it fall
what is its sound
the word is never rain
as the poem is
never real
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Abaude: Night into Morning
We lie under high arched windows
awake in the deep winter night
and gaze on the tallest trees
glazed in silver light.
They reach up to the radiant moon,
their fingers spread bare and plain,
raised in silent prayer
after December's cold, hard rain.
Your face is bathed in these holy rays,
and I fight sleep; I cannot turn away
from truth so deep as the moon beaming
through our wintering trees ardently streaming.
But I close my eyes for a moment, then see
dawn drawing azure from night's darkest seed,
and the trees' golden limbs rising on high
to praise morning's vaulting blue sky.
So I arise and turning to you I see
how night flows to dawn eternally
and to the resurgent world restores
the spring of our never-ending joy.
poem by Steven Federle
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Just live a good life
I wake up early this morning
Opening my computer
To read the emails and to
Write some thoughts in my mind
You pop out on the screen
With a big Good Day to me
You were fast on your pessimism
As I sip my coffee and read you
The world is ending
The climates changed
There is so much CO2
Humans have become
Slanderers and blasphemers
And God shall take his day
For this world’s destruction
I ask, if you have taken coffee
A pineapple juice or simply tea
I ask, if you had good sex last night
With your wife or someone else
I ask, if you are writing another poem
I ask, if you are taking a morning walk
With your dog or your son or daughter
I ask, if you have seen the sun rise
I ask, if you had a nice conversation
With a friend or an officemate
I ask, if you are living a good life
I ask, if you are being good and taking
Care of yourself, if you are praying, if
You are on the good side of the fence
You may not answer, I am taking a walk
I have just written a poem, I am answering
Emails of friends, I am seeing a beautiful
Sunrise today, its rays coming out from the trees.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Let The Night Sleep
Let the night sleep
Sleep for ever deep
With the night I sleep
Beyond the world to peep
Universe will sleep
Plants and trees
Birds and bees
Stars and moon
To sleep very soon!
Fruits and flowers
Joy with showers
Will sleep with me and the night
Not to keep the life very tight!
No dawn of the day
Right upto the dooms day!
Sleep permanent
In the world impermanent
I'll sleep without light
My agonies will sleep
My worries will sleep
My pains will sleep
My sins will sleep!
While in sleep
I am pure
I am peace
I am noble!
While my body is asleep
Awake my soul I keep
Sleep akin to death
Death akin to sleep in mirth?
Let the night sleep
Sleep for ever deep
With night I sleep
Sleep to eternity
Soul to merge in Divinity!
poem by Subbaraman N V
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Rain On The Window
(hicks / clarke / nash)
When I hear pitter-patter the rain on the window
Reminds of her
When I hear pitter-patter the rain on the window
It was raining hard
The trees looked bare the night I met her
She was wet her hands were cold
The wind blew through her hair
Though Id known her quite a long time
We were just good friends
So it didnt seem so strange
Inviting her back home
We sat by the fire
The flames brought out something in her
Melting all the cold
Projecting warmth I never knew
As the rain beat on my window
Did she understand
That in the glow of dying embers
Everything was planned
Pitter-patter pitter-patter pitter-patter pitter-patter
Pitter-patter pitter-patter pitter-patter pitter-patter
Pitter-patter pitter-patter pitter-patter pitter-patter
Pitter-patter pitter-patter pitter-patter pitter-patter
We made love later on that night
While the rain beat on my window
I cant forget the things that happened
While the rain beat down on my window
Next time I saw her
I knew she didnt want to know me
If I disappointed her
I think she should have told me
Cant she understand
I only tried to be a man
She made me feel so ashamed
Of everything I am
When I hear pitter-patter
The rain on the window
Reminds of her
song performed by by Hollies
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I Am Too Tired To Write A Good Poem
I AM TOO TIRED TO WRITE A GOOD POEM
I am too tired to write a good poem
I am too cold also
I have been out all day in the cold and the rain
I have been doing errands since early in the morning
I babysat for four hours in the afternoon
I went out again in the cold and rain to buy a few groceries
I tried to write and could not
I read and overate a few times
I tried to write
But I could not
I am very tired now
A poem should not be a simple clear description of one’s own mood at the moment
I am too tired to write a good poem
But I try to write
And this is the result
A poor poem indeed.
poem by Shalom Freedman
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