Silence Sputtering....
rain from
the roof tops
finding its
way to the gutter
exiting
at a post of the house
near me
sputtering
my silence that hides
in my
unutterances
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Related quotes
April Rain Song
Let the rain kiss you
Let the rain beat upon your head with silver liquid drops
Let the rain sing you a lullaby
The rain makes still pools on the sidewalk
The rain makes running pools in the gutter
The rain plays a little sleep song on our roof at night
And I love the rain.
poem by Langston Hughes
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Loving Everything Like Mother Teresa
Blue city swimming in irreproachable dreams,
Walking in the nighttime rain,
No despair on midnight streets,
No judgment calls on drunks vomiting
Sweetly in the gutter
Like saints for a new age,
Neon laughter on the corners,
Prostitutes in love,
Sorrow exiting in strange taxis,
I’m more ghost than poet
But you will see my invisible smile.
poem by Uriah Hamilton
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Dancing In The Rain
Let the children dance
In the rain
They are free!
Let them run on the
Green grass in the rain
They are free!
Let us hear their sounds
Of excitement
They are free!
Let us see them drink
Raindrops
They are free!
Their shoulders caressed
By rain dropping from
Roof tops to their toes
Let us see them
Play in the rain and in the
Mud
Let them get dirty
Let them be washed by the rain again
They are free!
Don’t you see we are all
These children dancing
In the rain?
We are free!
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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125
dancing in the rain
Let the children dance
In the rain
They are free!
Let them run on the
Green grass in the rain
They are free!
Let us hear their sounds
Of excitement
They are free!
Let us see them drink
Raindrops
They are free!
Their shoulders caressed
By rain dropping from
Roof tops to their toes
Let us see them
Play in the rain and in the
Mud
Let them get dirty
Let them be washed by the rain again
They are free!
Don’t you see we are all
These children dancing
In the rain?
We are free!
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Listening Back
There are no comrade roses at my window,
No green things in the lane;
Upon the roof no sibilant soft patter-
The lullaby of rain;
Without is silence, and within is silence,
Till silence grows a pain.
Within is silence, and without is silence,
The snow is on the sill,
In snow the window wreath’d instead of roses,
And snow is very still....
I wonder is it singing in the grasses,
The rain, on Russian Hill?
poem by Ina D. Coolbrith
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Alfredo Remembered...
he did not draw the rain
he wrote each drop
with so much art
inside the audio-visual room
where light focused on him
i saw the rain and
felt it
yes, every dropp of it
every coldness
every joy spattering like
i am a roof
a gutter a ground of
pebbles
he never walked much
and stayed
many did not know
that all he waited
was simply
death...
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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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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Late Fall Rain
Let the fall rain kiss you
Let the fall rain beat upon your head with silver pearl drops
Let the late fall rain sing you a lullaby
The late rain makes still pools on the sidewalk
The late fall rain makes running pools in the gutter
The late fall rain plays a little sleep song on our roof at night and day
The fall is as beautiful as I stay in there for several hours
I love the late fall rain as well as I love my boyfriend
poem by Natasa Tocuc
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Fall Rain Song
Let the fall rain kiss you
Let the fall rain beat upon your head with silver pearl drops
Let the late fall rain sing you a lullaby
The late rain makes still pools on the sidewalk
The late fall rain makes running pools in the gutter
The late fall rain plays a little sleep song on our roof at night and day
The fall is as beautiful as I stay in there for several hours
I love the late fall rain as well as I love my boyfriend
poem by Natasa Tocuc
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Fall Rain
Let the fall rain kiss you
Let the fall rain beat upon your head with silver pearl
drops
Let the late fall rain sing you a lullaby
The late rain makes still pools on the sidewalk
The late fall rain makes running pools in the gutter
The late fall rain plays a little sleep song on our roof at night and day
The fall is as beautiful as I stay in there for several hours
I love the late fall rain as well as I love Souls of America.
poem by Natasa Tocuc
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N2
listening to the softness of the rain
at dawn
opening the mind
for the seeping of understanding
how the rain falls on the roof
like a caress
how is the water redirected on the
gutter
towards the canals
of our limitations
canalized we survive the rigors
of what the laws expect
no overflowing
not a shortness of breath
at the middle of the hour of sorrow
we shall hear the festive
songs of the frogs in the rice-fields
the sun is up
but the rains do not stop
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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A House Without Stairs
do not say
that without the stairs
the house is not a house anymore
without the ceiling
the more the house becomes to me
take the roof
if you want
or the beams
or even the floor and window frames
my house will still be a house
the sky its roof
the stretching grassy plain its floor
all the stars become
my magnificent ceiling
whatever is taken
we must imagine that all things are still there
lest we only have a house
that crashes on the floor
with all of us
dead
crushed to the death of
our imaginations
a door without an exit
because you have not seen hope coming
the lock and key
are all in the mind and heart
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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The Decision To Be Happy
I am watching water
dripping from the gutter
the rain has just stopped
falling
the sun begins its part
spreading soft light on the window panes
my wife has finished taking her bath
and kisses me on my cheeks
breakfast is ready on the table
and the smell of rice and pork grill spreads in the house
the water that drips from the gutter
to the leaves of the fortune plant appears
like diamonds bringing all that gladness
to the younger hours of the day
well, ask me what is this all about
oh yeah, this is all about this decision to be just
simply happy.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Rain... Rain... Rain...!
Rain on tinned roof
Rain on concrete
Rain soaking into sands
Rain on soft earth
Rain on metal road
Rain on windscreen
Rain falling into the sea
Rain in the river
Rain on flowers
Rain on leaves
Rain under trees
Rain on hills
Rain on my skin…
Each with its own unique raga
Reverberates across the sky
On to the earth…
05aug2010
10.30hrs
poem by Indira Babbellapati
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104
This is the house of my father
The termites eat every wall
The beams fall
And the roofs shatter
And the ceiling splits with the gutter
I come back today to remember
The past
And here I am to reconstruct better
The future i must
The present
Shall be this condiment this complement
Now, these hands shall be the hammer
To every nail in the mind of this dreamer
This house shall stand again
Proud against the wind & rain.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Billy's Rain
When I'm lying awake, listening to rain
hammering on the roof,
the phrase comes back to me,
our code for 'Let's get out of here'.
We were huddled in the back of a van
with the lights, the videotape equipment
and the man with the rain machine.
'Why can't we use the regular rain?' you asked,
as rain hammered on the roof.
'That's God's rain', said someone.
'It doesn't show up on film.
We need Billy's rain for this one'.
When I find myself soaked to the skin, tired,
or merely bored with God's rain,
the phrase comes back to me.
I'd say it now if I thought you were listening.
Anonymous submission.
poem by Hugo Williams
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The Snail
To grass, or leaf, or fruit, or wall,
The snail sticks close, nor fears to fall,
As if he grew there, house and all
Together.
Within that house secure he hides,
When danger imminent betides
Of storm, or other harm besides
Of weather.
Give but his horns the slightest touch,
His self-collecting power is such,
He shrinks into his house, with much
Displeasure.
Where’er he dwells, he dwells alone,
Except himself has chattels none,
Well satisfied to be his own
Whole treasure.
Thus, hermit-like, his life he leads,
Nor partner of his banquet needs,
And if he meets one, only feeds
The faster.
Who seeks him must be worse than blind,
(He and his house are so combined,)
If, finding it, he fails to find
Its master.
poem by William Cowper
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Amy Hit The Atmosphere
If I could make it rain today
And wash away this sunny day down to the gutter
I would just to get a change of pace
Things are getting worse but I feel a lot better
And that's all that really matters to me
Amy hit the atmosphere
Caught herself a rocket ride out of this gutter and
She's never coming back
song performed by by Counting Crows from This Desert Life
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Rain CAN
rain cant tell a lie,
rain can be louder then a fly,
rain cant make shoes
rain can hit the roof
rain cant be nice (person wise)
rain can make ice
rain cant bleed
rain can grow a seed
rain cant draw a toon
rain can make a tune
rain cant be a loon
rain can make a monsoon
so rain can and cant do alot of things.
here comes the rain!
oh look! it's spring!
poem by Its yellow jello my little fellow. yell
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388
it is the rain once again
that keeps this conversation alive
even if we do not intend
to like it
the road is muddy
and this rain continues to fall heavily
on the roof of my house
the river along the path
that you shall take
shall rise and may threaten
you
there is no choice for you
but to stay a while
and keep this conversation alive
about the rain
the rain that we are not making
they come
not from the clouds
they come
deep within our hearts
they gather
to give way to tears
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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