Smoke
smoke from the chimney
rises to the sky
and then gone
like us, did you not notice?
we are from here
this heart and then in pain
we rise up
we mix in space
there, do you see still us?
i do not see me anymore
i am fog dissolving in the morning
i am mist dissipating on glass
i am smoke
rising to the sky from the chimney
and then gone....
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Related quotes
When The Smoke Comes Out
when the smoke comes out
they are there to say that there is fire
on the chimney
when the smoke is black
they all say i have decided
when the smoke is white
they keep on praying since
no one is chosen
to lead the lost flock
without their grazing ground
during winter time
what if the smoke comes out
from my eyes and the smoke is black
and there is no fire in my heart?
what if i am lost? shall you care?
please don't. I must tell you i am happier
when left alone.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Recovery Disc
i know what you are up to.
i know that you do not forget pain and i know that that pain is still there and no matter how you hide it
it comes like smoke from an old
dirty chimney
and at winter time it shows all the black soot
the gray smoke from the house
to the sky
i know that when you invite me you do not really mean to please me.
you just want to show the changes in the house
the rearrangement of the furniture
it no longer the rose in the vase but
a carnation
that you say is loved by another
but not you
i know what you are up to but i have already prepared myself for that
in my heart i must tell you
pain has no bed.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Hidden smoke is a friend indeed
'If they pick I have some words for a country sad song.
Yes, If they sing I hear quietly.'
A rising smoke from a cottage chimney whispers to the barren sky.
'They burn the happiness and it turns into smoke.
Where do I go nobody knows?
But don't be frightened
I never pollute the sky and I promise you to bring rain for your crops to smile
And feed you in a severe drought.'
poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
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An Hour After Midnight
you must know this hour
when i wake up and the rest of you are sleeping
it is at this moment
when loneliness wakes up
and soars
like a smoke from a chimney
rising to the sky
it is so dark
and it is going everywhere
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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1: 21
guess the hour
of my madness
when loneliness
begins to rise
and move
like a smoke
from the
chimney
it is dark and there is
nowhere to go
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Santa Baby
Santa baby, slip a sable under the tree, for me
Ive been an awful good girl
Santa baby, and hurry down the chimney tonight
Santa baby, an out-of-space convertible too, light blue
Ill wait up for you dear
Santa baby, and hurry down the chimney tonight
Think of all the fun Ive missed
Think of all the fellas that I havent kissed
Next year I could be oh so good
If youd check off my christmas list
Boo doo bee doo
Santa honey, I wanna yacht and really thats
Not a lot
Ive been an angel all year
Santa baby, and hurry down the chimney tonight
Santa cutie, theres one thing I really do need, the deed
To a platinum mine
Santa cutie, and hurry down the chimney tonight
Santa baby, Im filling my stocking with a duplex, and checks
Sign your x on the line
Santa baby, and hurry down the chimney tonight
Come and trim my christmas tree
With some decorations bought at tiffanys
I really do believe in you
Lets see if you believe in me
Boo doo bee doo
Santa baby, forgot to mention one little thing, a ring
I dont mean a phone
Santa baby, and hurry down the chimney tonight
Hurry down the chimney tonight
Hurry down the chimney tonight
song performed by by Madonna
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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For You To Trust Me
for you to trust me
i must listen and keep the promise
about your love and your
new lover
not to tell about the fire
burning inside your hearts
and eyes
for you to trust me
i must not be the rain
or the sun
i must not be the river
to sing what you both have kept
as a secret
inside the chimney when the smoke
rises to the skies
i shall only watch
and keep the pains that both of you
too suffer
i have not told you
that in love
goes the joy
goes the pain
and now you must take them all
like water and sand
in your hand
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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What The Chimney Sang
Over the chimney the night-wind sang
And chanted a melody no one knew;
And the Woman stopped, as her babe she tossed,
And thought of the one she had long since lost,
And said, as her teardrops back she forced,
'I hate the wind in the chimney.'
Over the chimney the night-wind sang
And chanted a melody no one knew;
And the Children said, as they closer drew,
'`Tis some witch that is cleaving the black night through,
`Tis a fairy trumpet that just then blew,
And we fear the wind in the chimney.'
Over the chimney the night-wind sang
And chanted a melody no one knew;
And the Man, as he sat on his hearth below,
Said to himself, 'It will surely snow,
And fuel is dear and wages low,
And I`ll stop the leak in the chimney.'
Over the chimney the night-wind sang
And chanted a melody no one knew;
But the Poet listened and smiled, for he
Was Man and Woman and Child, all three,
And said, 'It is God`s own harmony,
This wind we hear in the chimney.'
poem by Francis Bret Harte
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It Is The Same Unrequited Love As The Old Song From The Mountain
the love is alive
within you and it wants to talk
and tell and just
be a smoke rising finally from the
confines of the chimney
from those closed windows
and locked doors
liberation, spirits freed from
what imprison them
just to say i love you and then
i go
it is enough it does not demand much
it says hello and then
keeps upon its pocket the word
goodbye
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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I would rather see smoke from my own chimney than the fire on another's hearth.
The Lark's Song
The morning is wild and dark,
The night mist runs on the vale,
Bright Lucifer dies to a spark,
And the wind whistles up for a gale.
And stormy the day may be
That breaks through its prison bars,
But it brings no regret to me,
For I sing at the door of the stars!
Along the dim ocean-verge
I see the ships labouring on;
They rise on the lifting surge
One moment, and they are gone.
I see on the twilight plain
The flash of the flying cars;
Men travail in joy or pain -
But I sing at the door of the stars!
I see the green, sleeping world,
The pastures all glazed with rime;
The smoke from the chimney curled;
I hear the faint church bells chime.
I see the grey mountain crest,
The slopes, and the forest spars,
With the dying moon on their breast -
While I sing at the door of the stars!
poem by Anne Glenny Wilson
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Saturation Points...
buying furniture
is not an option, where
do you put them
in this crowded house?
clothes are a
no no,
he is fat and
clothes don't fit anymore
the spoons and forks
we have enough of them
left unattended
they rust in their secret
places
in the kitchen
the porcelain plates
are glossy
we become speechless
of such
beauty in fidelity
despite the fact
that we stop giving parties
and they have
become of no use
unlike before
we cook the traditional way
with firewood
and chimney and we
send the smoke to the
sky
our way of communicating
to God
daily.
now, we have become
too secretive with
technology
in our privacy
we do not keep any smoke
because we know
we cannot hold them
no matter how closed the
windows are
they always keep and
tell the story
guess what?
there is a need to buy
more blankets
we are feeling this
kind of indescribable cold
for the moment
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Authors want their names down in history; I want to keep the smoke coming out of the chimney.
quote by Mickey Spillane
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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November still day
Peaceful chimney smoke shimmer
Fox spoors on new snow
haiku by Oskar Hansen
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One may have a blazing hearth in one's soul and yet no one ever came to sit by it. Passers-by see only a wisp of smoke from the chimney and continue on their way.
quote by Vincent Van Gogh
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The promises of love and the smoke of a chimney, washed by water and blown away by the wind.
One may have a blazing hearth in one's soul and yet no one ever come to sit by it. Passersby see only a wisp of smoke from the chimney and continue on the way.
quote by Vincent Van Gogh
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Deserted House
There's no smoke in the chimney,
And the rain beats on the floor;
There's no glass in the window,
There's no wood in the door;
The heather grows behind the house,
And the sand lies before.
No hand hath trained the ivy,
The walls are grey and bare;
The boats upon the sea sail by,
Nor ever tarry there.
No beast of the field comes nigh,
Nor any bird of the air
poem by Mary Elizabeth Coleridge
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There is in every American, I think, something of the old Daniel Boone - who, when he could see the smoke from another chimney, felt himself too crowded and moved further out into the wilderness.
quote by Hubert H. Humphrey
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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When You Exhort On A Certain Reality
it is this early morning
when you begin to recall what you
want to say last night
it was something horrible so you
decided after all
to keep it within yourself as
another secret
but then like a smoke from the chimney
some things simply escape
from their form and shape and show
themselves to the open skies
this very early morning you write
what you refuse to say
and then things reshape themselves in automation
like clouds and then they drift away
floating and there
you let them go
you let them be themselves
and here you are unattached
like a button removed from its cloth.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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