Sorrow And Silence Walking Hand In Hand
it is the sorrow that is always cold
cold as the moist ground
where the earthworms live
it has hands less the warmth of the
callousness
and it is the silence with a veil
nothing to speak about
that keeps on holding my heart
it has no hands anymore
but it has strong wings
and sharp beak
there is a land somewhere
where the eggs must be put to finally
make out
a sense of home
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
Out In The Cold
The day fell down, the air got cold
I walked out in the street
Daydreamed for a mil e or two
Staring at my feet
Like a workin boy, out of luck
Fallin through the cracks
Night rolled in, I turned back home
A hard wind at my back
Im out in the cold (out in the cold)
Body and soul (out in the cold)
Th eres nowhere to go (out in the cold)
Im out in the cold (out in the cold)
Well I woke up
My brain was stunned
I could come around
I reached out to grab my keys
Tumbled to the ground
I thought of you
Starry eyed
I wondered where we stand
Did I just fall from your arms
Down into your hands
Im out in the cold (out in the cold)
Body and soul (out in the cold)
Theres nowhere to go (out in the cold)
Im out in the cold (out in the cold)
Im out
Standin in a doorway
Im out
Walkin around
Hands in my pockets
Im out in the cold (out in the cold)
Body and soul (out in the cold)
Theres nowhere to go (out in the cold)
Im out in the cold (o ut in the cold)
song performed by by Tom Petty
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Move Along
Go ahead as you waste your days with thinking
When you fall everyone sins
Another day and you've had your fill of sinking
With the life held in your
Hands are shaking cold
These hands are meant to hold
Speak to me, when all you got to keep is strong
Move along, move along like I know you do
And even when your hope is gone
Move along, move along just to make it through
Move along
Move along
So a day when you've lost yourself completely
Could be a night when your life ends
Such a heart that will lead you to deceiving
All the pain held in your
Hands are shaking cold
Your hands are mine to hold
Speak to me, when all you got to keep is strong
Move along, move along like I know you do
And even when your hope is gone
Move along, move along just to make it through
Move along
(Go on, go on, go on, go on)
When everything is wrong we move along
(Go on, go on, go on, go on)
When everything is wrong, we move along
Along, along, along
When all you got to keep is strong
Move along, move along like I know you do
And even when your hope is gone
Move along, move along just to make it through
[x3]
(Move along)
(Go on, go on, go on, go on)
Right back what is wrong
We move along
song performed by by All American Rejects
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Those moments
as you begin
you make decisions that end
a certain moment
something escapes like a bird from your hand
but that is what it is going to be
wings are always wings
and the hands and palms are but what you claim you have
there is a satisfaction
of flight for those destined to fly
in the same manner there is more to a home
as it is too destined to stay
there is no gauge to all these but the heart that sings
during those moments of cold rain
there is no point of return
for one who has finally decided to be just oneself
a home a sofa and a window that you close
because finally it is dark ....
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Our Hands
My hands once warm,
And clothed in yours,
my hands once full,
and held in yours.
Empty hands,
Cold hands,
my hands have lost their,
Partner as you once were for me,
Your hands at once rough,
and soft,
Always gentle when in mine,
our hands would meet to fill the cold,
My hands now empty cover tears,
my hands once warm now with
a freezing touch,
your hands are gone,
the warmth they held has left,
these hands of mine.
poem by Rebecca Adams
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The coldest of the cold?
A greedy person’s Cold ambition
Or could it be Cold windy nights
The pureness of Cold clear water
Or the alien aspect of Cold neon lights
The careless Cold shoulder
The unfeeling Cold heart
The curse of Cold nature
Cold hands held apart
Could it be Cold feet
Could it be cold fears
Could it be cold weather
Or icy cold ears
Even above cold blood…
Even above… being apart
My choice of all, above, Would be
the unfeeling…of a cold, cold heart
poem by David Whalen
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Lay Your Hands On Me
Sat in the corner of the garden grill, with plastic flowers
On the window sil
No more miracles, loaves and fishes, been so busy with the
Washing of the dishes
Reaction levels much too high - I can do without the stimuli
Im living way beyond my ways and means, living in the
Zone of the inbetweens
I can see the flashes on the frozen ocean, static charge of
The cold emotion
Watched on by the distant eyes - watched on by the silent
Hidden spies
But still the warmth flows through me
And I sense you know me well
No luck, no golden chances
No mitigating circumstances now
Its only common sense
There are no accidents around here
I am willing - lay your hands on me
I am ready - lay your hands on me
I believe - lay your hands on me, over me
Working in gardens, thornless roses, fat men play with their
Garden hoses
Poolside laughter has a cynical bite, sausage speared by the
Cocktail satellite
I walk away from from light and sound, down stairways
Leading underground
But still the warmth flows through me
And I sense you know me well
Its only common sense
There are no accidents around here
I am willing - lay your hands on me
I am ready - lay your hands on me
I believe - lay your hands on me, over me
Over me
Lay your hands on me
Lay your hands on me
Lay your hands on me, over me
song performed by by Peter Gabriel
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Those Hands Joining
Great grandma’s hands
Grandma’s, mama’s,
sister's hands
Aunt’s and niece’s
Hands, they join today
An epic telling the stories
About touch, about prayer,
About reaching, about the years
Of caressing and holding on
To love, persevering and
Resting the hands on the
Hands of the other hands
Those moments of silence
When the hands speak more
When the mouths accept
The loss of the power of words
When even the hearts give in
Because the hands are warmer
And so comforting.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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I Dreamed.... (Hands)
i dreamed last night...
and all i could see were hands.
sometimes hard and calloused,
sometimes soft and feminine.
skilled hands, laborer's hands,
loving hands, nurturing hands....
fingers digging in the dirt,
fingers holding a pen.
fingers playing a piano,
fingers unbuttoning blouses.
hands extended, hands gripping the rope,
hands holding the shovel,
hands covered with resin.
hands folded in prayer,
hands balled into fists.
hands stuffed in empty pockets.
hands that define both history,
and destiny!
hands scarred and bruised,
hands covered with age spots.
hands that speak many languages.
hands that know mistakes, and failures.
hands that built fires,
hands that put fires out!
hands that wiped away tears,
that picked up trash,
and revealed souls....
whose hands?
my hands, your hands?
god's hands?
does it really matter?
hands engaged and involved,
in the very act of living!
poem by Eric Cockrell
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Cold, Cold Heart
Once your heart was warm
like the summer sun,
now it is cold
like the winter’s snow.
I don’t know what I’ve done
to bring this change in you.
I can’t think of any hurt I caused
that would make you have
such a cold, cold heart.
I’ve tried to make amends
for things I have not done
and tried to melt the ice
of that cold, cold heart,
bringing back the warmth and love
we used to know before.
29 July 2009
poem by David Harris
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386
if there is no place that can accommodate
your sadness,
i know how sweet is the
feeling of departure
you are prepared to spread your wings
but your heart is still as heavy as the weight
of your legs
but then you have the right to fly away
from sorrow
to drift away from lament
happy trip my friend
i send you my blessings
i wish you all the luck to finally reach your destination
happy flying with your wings
but before you finally go
let me know
the secret of your having grown
those pair of big and strong wings
tell me which part of your body
are you hiding your hands
for soon if i have some
i may fly away from
sadness too.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Complaceny
from my hands
you little bird with a black beak
shall take the grains
i wait for time to grow you
strong wings so you can fly away and join
your family
and then you have wings
why do you want to stay still in my house
pecking the grains in my hands?
what is it
that you love on the lines of my palms?
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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The Homeless
Dry and cold were the bitter winds
that crackled the ice on the panes.
Dry and cold were the old woman's hands,
red and raw from the pains.
Old were these winds that had no end.
They surfaced every winter.
Old were the hands that were this woman's
that felt as if they would splinter.
The winter winds were not welcome
for she had no place to go.
Looking for shelter from the cold,
she welcomed the sight of snow.
For the snow would blanket the box she was in
for a night or two.
She stayed inside it for many long hours
as if it were an igloo.
All through the hours she rubbed her hands.
Through a slit she looked to view,
looking for a slant of sunshine soon
but still the cold winds blew.
This is the plight of the homeless.
This is a curse on our lands.
They found her dead when the sun finally came
with stiff and frozen hands.
poem by Edwina Reizer
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Open Wound
So cold
why so cold
where is the warmth
why did it leave
I feel it
its on the outside
running down my body
running away
How can I be so cold
if I'm surrounded by warmth
even as it covers my body
I feel so cold
It's so dark
first the warmth
now the light
why me
I can’t move
help me
save me
heal me
Be my angel
be my wings
be my warmth
be my light
Be my soul
poem by Kaysen Fraker
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She Brought Them All Kindly To Her Grave
of course i know what coldness is
apart from something that is cool
when mother died her hands were extremely cold
for my hold
i let them go
there was no sadness
there was that happiness of letting her rest
and giving myself a little space
for tomorrow
when coldness comes again in an empty room
with open windows
i know not what panic shall be
my hands are extremely cold these days
when i kiss them
my lips become frozen
they break like glasses
i cannot speak
there is no way that my tongue shall give in to
words
it cannot face coldness in the mirror
of my face
since you ask and you demand an explanation i open my hands
and i let your hands touch them
i cannot speak i am afraid i will be cruel
you must hold these extreme coldness for a long time
so you can all let them go
like white birds against a dark sky
so you can also experience what happiness
i had when i let go off
mama's fears
when mama closed her eyes
because what was important she knew
need not be said anymore
she brought them all kindly to her grave
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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The Problem With The Wind
the problem with the wind
is its senselessness
it comes it goes and it seems
it does not even know where it is going
you think it feels you
it doesn't
it simply moves around and
comes back around like an accidental whirlpool
it is numb it does not even know
what a rock and a cloud means
the earthworms fear it
the birds too
whose wings it breaks without even feeling sorry
for the caused calamity
the problem with the wind is that it is like silence
not because it woos it and carries it away sometimes
but because it is cold
so cold that it numbs and shatters
what was once whole and heartfelt.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Dug out Doll 2
dug out doll
it looks 30 years old
palsy, naked, torn and cold
with the eyeballs gone
but like a human
like a ghost
wandering
the realm
cold and alone
it still looks for love
its hands are outstretched
and point towards sky
though the rubber body
is hardly complete anymore
i walk away my heart
cold as the doll
poem by John Tiong Chunghoo
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The Cold Tea Of Otteri
do i get a cold tea?
i prefer it hot really
and the green one
and a moist butter
cake to go with it.
cool...
the cold tea
or colder, i detest
the trauma is
still there in the coldness
of her body and hands
when she slept with me
she was dead
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Frosted
Cold hands, warm heart, they say,
And yet, how the cold winds chill my heart today.
Creeping within my warmly wrapped attire,
Not caring how or when they quench the fire
Contained therein. Now the body's frosted to the bone,
And to shivers prone, and hands are still so cold.
Where are warm gloves sold?
poem by Ernestine Northover
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The Circle that Circles In...
when i speak
i do not really map out home
when the home erases the
paths towards it
it does not speak about
a misfortune
such is the rule of the pigeons
their sense of home is tattooed
on their feathers as light as
a paper where a letter about sorrow is written
as it is
things only become themselves
as air becomes guests of the curtains
they signify what presence is all about
it could be about us
or the others
there is no perfect map
to differences that scatter themselves like fingers
but soon when a prayer is formed
the hands cup like home
where as you see
we first began
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Two Shots
This song was first released on the windsong album. it is the only album it has been released on.
I took two shots, got no ducks, and cold, cold hands
Last night while I was out drinking
Trying to have a good time
The lady with whom I was speaking
Thought I was feeding her some old line
When I spoke of a cold winters morning
A duck blind and a river of gray
The sound of the snow softly falling
When I thought I heard somebody say
I took two shots, got no ducks, and cold, cold hands
I could tell by the gaze of my comrades
That I was the one who had spoke
Their eyes held a message of patience
The thrill of the hunt and of hope
But when I spoke again how they listened
For the wisdom of what I might say
If the good lord had meant us to shoot one
Hed surely send more ducks our way
I took two shots, got no ducks, and cold, cold hands
Well the lady with whom I was speaking
She laughed lightly and she wandered away
My heart, like the snow in my story
Fell silent, Id hoped she would stay
Its so nice to talk to somebody
To find someone whos willing to share
I know that this life is worth living
But sometimes it just isnt fair
I took two shots, got no ducks, and cold, cold hands
I took two shots, got no ducks, and cold, cold hands
Words and music by john denver
song performed by by John Denver
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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