Soul Mate
a day is not complete
without her
and the nights are not
as cold as they use to be
until she takes the
place of emptiness
on your side
in sleep you are
more confident
no one harms
you even when
old nightmares
come
you place back
your hands to the
bossom of
your mother
she places her
hands on your hair
sleeps is as sound
as the silence
of the cotton
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Related quotes
The Inner Side Of Your Perfection
to get intimacy
you make love
to be more intimate
you need to make love some more
like a string of
buds of
tiny flowers
seemingly you want it without
an ending
eternity & infinity
side by side
but there is no intimacy in intimacy
since after each lovemaking
you return to the
emptiness of your arms again
less the other arms of those
other nights & other nights
before them
a cold night returns
with empty hands
and winds begin to pass
by your face
between your eyes
beyond your
hair
outside all of you
finally you try embracing yourself again
as though
you are another distinct set of arms
unto your
inner arms
and then you become one
without need
of any other
silent and
complete
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Underneath Are The Everlasting Arms
Father into your hands I place
the things I cannot do.
Father into your hands I give
what Irene's going through.
Father into your hands I place
the surgeons and nurses too.
For I know I always can trust you
Father into yours hands I place
my friends and family.
Father into your hands I place
everything that troubles me.
Father into your hands I place
the things I cannot see.
Because You care for Irene and me.
Silence Perceiving
If silence were a canvass,
the emptiness it holds is the impression,
The voices on the universe,
is the artist's hands removing it's innocence.
I am the passer-by,
she is the stranger's eye.
I adore the beauty of it's impression,
looking through her eyes of isolation.
If silence were a canvass,
If were an eye of a stranger's,
If the world is the place,
let silence be the painter.
In silence,
In silence.
poem by Krispian Vilipi
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In Here
in here we come
without promises
of stars
we are free to go
leaving is not difficult
it is all in our minds
this dizziness about
our existence as poets
the last bulwark of
erotic thoughts
this is the place of
certain confidences
we write what we think
not what we are
we empathize we get into
the shoes of another we weep
as though we do not own any
tear we keep the silence sometimes
as though we own space
we move as though we are
the river we fall as though
we are the rain
this is this place
welcome back to this world
of words
bring in the emptiness
think that soon you shall be full
and then empty yourself again
feel the essences
of all these nothingness
i have come with empty hands
and i shall leave
without my face.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Every Morning
every morning...he takes his off...his eyes...from their places...clumsily...lazı ly.....as he...as he leaves out..and gets out of his dreams...then he...puts on his feet...counts his arms..and if his fingers are in teir right places and complete...he places his head to its usual place...he then takes out his stomach....pours some tea in it....and silently...goes out...leaves to work...there he takes out his feet again...his fills his head with many troubles....in evening he returns home..his lonely home...then counts his broken hopes...he leaves one of his feet in the kitchen..the other on the streets....then scatters his fingers in the house...then goes....to sleep...to dreams...
poem by Metin Sahin
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I Go Dream Fishing
Little girls sleeps,
sleeps in a piano.
With every stir a note is hit,
and every dream a piece of music.
She plays mozart in her nightmares,
her mother, her mother, her mother, her mother.
poem by Ursula De La Mer
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My Home
How do I find my way back?
I've strayed too far from home.
I've gone so many places
for so many days.
I've even been to Rome.
I have seen so many sights now.
It seems to me that somehow
that every place I've ever seen
were places in-between
from the place that is my home.
My search for brand new places
and all those other places
never filled the gap
as I crossed the map,
so far from my sweet home.
For I missed the landscape,
the place that I grew up in.
The old familiar faces
were not in the places I've been.
And now I must retrace my steps.
I've searched this world all over.
Too long I've been a rover.
I'll take a trip on back
for I'm on the wrong track.
I wonder what I'll find at my home?
Nothing seems the same now.
Familiarity has changed somehow,
except for the peace I feel around me.
'Cause in my memory I still can see
the place that is my home.
poem by Edwina Reizer
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The Passing Of A Heart
O touch me with your hands--
For pity's sake!
My brow throbs ever on with such an ache
As only your cool touch may take away;
And so, I pray
You, touch me with your hands!
Touch--touch me with your hands.--
Smooth back the hair
You once caressed, and kissed, and called so fair
That I did dream its gold would wear alway,
And lo, to-day--
O touch me with your hands!
Just touch me with your hands,
And let them press
My weary eyelids with the old caress,
And lull me till I sleep. Then go your way,
That Death may say:
He touched her with his hands.
poem by James Whitcomb Riley
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To My Mother
Why
you went
and in this
bitter and cruel world
alone me left
was death so beautı ful and your beloved
did you miss it very much
fed up of us
you used to take us
under your skirt
and protect us from rainy days
from everything harmful
is you grave as cold as ice
why did you made it be dug so large
whom are yı ou expecting near as dear
was death so beautı ful mother
why you left us alone
ı t ı s evident
you longed for it
ı was angry
do noyt go do not leave us
pardon me mother
after so many years
ı came to your place
to embrace
may be youare lyiş ng in tears
and of longings
again another december
the day you left
did you remember
your hands were cracked
may be of cold
forgive me moı ther
ı could not afford to buy cream
to soothe them
you gone with your cracked hands
there is alittle ceddar on your grave
who sowed it ı do not know
some kinds of fruı t on it
ı took and smelled
they smelled you mother
ı took some with me to home
they are dried now
my wife does not know
ell me mother
after so many years
are your hands or
your heart are still cracked
tell me how can ı soothe them
or am ı so late to you
pardon me
forgive me
remember the only thing
the most longing of my heart
is still you
every night ı will go on talking with you
in my dream
in my sleep
or in my awake
poem by Metin Sahin
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As She Sleeps
As she sleeps
I cannot
While she dreams
I think
She stirs
And I remain still
So close..
I can feel the heat
So distant,
I feel nothing else
As she sleeps
And dreams
I'm wide awake
Thinking
Staring at the emptiness
The void
Hoping to find a sign..
Your hands are cold
But mine are warm..
poem by Jeremy Rascon
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L'An Trentiesme De Mon Eage
And I have come upon this place
By lost ways, by a nod, by words,
By faces, by an old man's face
At Morlaix lifted to the birds,
By hands upon the tablecloth
At Aldebori's, by the thin
Child's hands that opened to the moth
And let the flutter of the moonlight in,
By hands, by voices, by the voice
Of Mrs. Whitman on the stair,
By Margaret's 'If we had the choice
To choose or not - 'through her thick hair,
By voices, by the creak and fall
Of footsteps on the upper floor,
By silence waiting in the hall
Between the doorbell and the door,
By words, by voices, a lost way - ,
And here above the chimney stack
The unknown constellations sway -
And by what way shall I go back?
poem by Archibald MacLeish
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Where Has My Mother Gone?
Where has my mother gone? I haven't heard from her,
no letters and no phone calls,
When autumn winds begin to blow,
I think of her even more,
I held my mother's hands,
Warm, hard, tight, hard working hands.
On a windy night, I was scared and lonely.
My mother held me tightly, and we slept together,
More than anyone else, my mother prayed
For my complete happiness.
I saw her a year ago, sleeping so soundly.
Couldn't bear to wake her, I kissed her.
I hope you live long-----long, I want to see you again.
I stared at my mother's face,
Her face reflecting a hard, hard life,
I called mother! Mother!
There is no answer, only an echo from far away
Where has my mother gone?
Cold, Cold, Autumn winds.
poem by Fusayo Butko
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Cant You See
Written by dan peek, 1976
Found on hideaway and highway.
Alone, sitting here on my own
Theres no place Id rather be
Or so it seems
Home, miles away from home
And theres no place Id rather be
Cant you see?
You hold your life in your hands
And no one takes from a man
Who gives the best that he can
To make someone understand
Ive flown miles away from home
And theres no place Id rather be
Cant you see?
You hold your life in your hands
And no one takes from a man
Who gives the best that he can
To make someone understand
Home, miles away from home
And theres no place Id rather be
Cant you see, cant you see, cant you see?
Cant you see, cant you see, cant you see?
Cant you see, cant you see, cant you see?
song performed by by America
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Cry Freedom
How can I turn away
Brother/sister go dancing
Through my head
Human as to human
The future is no place
To place your better days
Cry freedom, cry
From a crowd 10,000 wide
Hope laid upon hope
That this crowd will not subside
Let this flag burn to dust
And a new a fair design be raised
While we wait head in hands,
Hands in prayer
And fall into a dreamless sleep again
And we wave our hands
Hands and feet are all alike
But gold between divide us
Hands and feet are all alike
But fear between divide us
All slip away
There was a window and by it stood
A mirror in which
He could see himself
He thought of something
Something he had never had but
Hoped would come along
Cry freedom, cry
From deep inside
Where we are all confined
While we wave hands in fire
Wave our hands
Hands and feet are all alike
But gold between divide us
Hands and feet are all alike
But fear between divide us,
Slip away
In this room stood a little child
And in this room this little child
She would remain
Until someone might decide
To dance this little child
Across this hall
Into a cold, dark, space
Where she might never trace her
Way across this crooked mile
Across this crooked page
Cry freedom, cry
From deep inside where
We are all confined
Till we wave our hands
How can I turn away
Brother/sister go dancing
Through my head
Human as to human
The future is no place
To place your better days
Hands and feet are all alike but gold between divide us hands and feet are all alike but fear between divide us hands and feet are all alike hear what I say hear what I say oh, so be it
How can I turn away brother/sister go dancing through my head human as to human the future is no place to place your better days
song performed by by Dave Matthews Band
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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In The Firelight
The fire upon the hearth is low,
And there is stillness everywhere,
While like winged spirits, here and there,
The firelight shadows fluttering go.
And as the shadows round me creep,
A childish treble breaks the gloom,
And softly from a further room
Comes, "Now I lay me down to sleep."
And somehow, with that little prayer
And that sweet treble in my ears,
My thoughts go back to distant years
And linger with a loved one there;
And as I hear my child's amen,
My mother's faith comes back to me,--
Crouched at her side I seem to be,
And Mother holds my hands again.
Oh, for an hour in that dear place!
Oh, for the peace of that dear time!
Oh, for that childish trust sublime!
Oh, for a glimpse of Mother's face!
Yet, as the shadows round me creep,
I do not seem to be alone,--
Sweet magic of that treble tone,
And "Now I lay me down to sleep."
poem by Eugene Field
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Overture -- Cotton Avenue
A red sun came rolling down a grey sky
And the frogs and dogs and night birds then
Started up singing sweet country lullaby
You see that patch of city lights-
Somewhere in there's Cotton Avenue-
That's where I'm going to take myself tonight
With a spit shine on my dancing shoes
If you got a place like that to go
You just have to go there
If you got no place special
Well then, you just go no place special
I guess it's just the summer in the young blood
Ripe and juicy in the young blood
Teasing to go down to ...
Cotton Avenue
To hear the shiny shiny music
See all the shiny people dancing to it
Anytime you go to ...
Cotton Avenue
If you got a place like that to go
You know you got to go there
If you got no place special
Well then, you just go no place special
You see that summer storm brewing in the southern sky
By the time it hits here I'll be dancing high and dry
To rhythm and blues
On Cotton Avenue
Poor boys'll be hanging around outside in the street
They got all the latest words
They're dancing to the latest beat
While they're hustling and sizing you
On Cotton Avenue
If you got a place like that to go
You just have to go there
If you've got no place special
Well my dear
You just so no place ... special
song performed by by Joni Mitchell
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Knowing You Knowing Me
after all, i see you
what invincibility is there?
do not take pride
in hiding, it has no name
open up like a bud into
a rose
like hands reaching
for a stalk
of air
or rain
i do not ask you
to think of someone
this is not the place
of remembering but simply
a place to be
just a word without a
face
a sound without
the lips
it is just feeling a wall
a contour
a body with a little warmth
on one
cold night that i expect
or shall i say
I except.
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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Crouchin’ On The Outside
One two three four five six seven eight hey baby you're a little too late
I'm standin' on the outside lookin' in at you on the inside
Lookin' out at me on the outside lookin' in
Through the window of my madness at a place I never been
And you say you understand just what my trouble's all about
But you're sitting on the inside playing on the win side
While I'm freezing on the outside in the what's-it-all-about side
Lookin' in at you on the inside looking out
One two three four five six seven eight hey Jim let's talk about hate
I'm walkin' on the white side lookin' 'round at you on the brown side
Lookin' back at him on the black side lookin' down
And we're mouthin' words of freedom but we don't make any sound
And we clasp our hands in brotherhood and then go wash our hands
While you're stayin' on the brown side on the go-ahead-and-put-me-down side
While I'm standin' on the white side on the got-me-way-up-tight side
Lookin' back at him on the black side lookin' back
One two three four five six seven eight hey Claude don't bother to wait
You're cruisin' on the gay side lookin' straight at me on the straight side
Lookin' way at you on the gay side lookin' straight
And you're screamin' from the rooftops bout the pleasures that won't wait
And your closet's full of queenly gowns for extra special dates
And you're campin' on the gay side on the c'mon-out-and-play side
While I'm over on the trick side on the got-to-find-a-chick side
Lookin' way at you on the gay side lookin' straight
One two four seven nine eight twelve fifteen nineteen eighteen ninety-nine twenty-four else
[ sax ]
One two three four five six seven eight hey Miss hallucinate
You're boppin' on the hip side laughin' at me on the flip side
Chasin' after you on the hip side losin' my grip
And you're walkin' on a tightrope and you're tryin' not to slip
And you say you found out where it's at and give it all a try
So you're groovin' on the hip side in the come-and-take-a-trip side
I'm movin' on the square side in the show-me-when-and-where side
Chasin' after you on the hip side lookin' high
Lookin' at you on the hip side lookin' out yeah
Lookin' at you on the flip side lookin' back
poem by Sheldon Allan Silverstein
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New
We knew.
Anne to come.
Anne to come.
Be new.
Be new too.
Anne to come
Anne to come
Be new
Be new too.
And anew.
Anne to come.
Anne anew.
Anne do come.
Anne do come too, to come and to come not to come and as to
and new, and new too.
Anne do come.
Anne knew.
Anne to come.
Anne anew.
Anne to come.
And as new.
Anne to come to come too.
Half of it.
Was she
Windows
Was she
Or mine
Was she
Or as she
For she or she or sure.
Enable her to say.
And enable her to say.
Or half way.
Sitting down.
Half sitting down.
And another way.
Their ships
And please.
As the other side.
And another side
Incoming
Favorable and be fought.
Adds to it.
In half.
Take the place of take the place of take the place of taking
place.
Take the place of in places.
Take the place of taken in place of places.
Take the place of it, she takes it in the place of it. In the way
of arches architecture.
Who has seen shown
You do.
Hoodoo.
If can in countenance to countenance a countenance as in as
seen.
Change it.
Not nearly so much.
He had.
She had.
Had she.
He had nearly very nearly as much.
She had very nearly as much as had had.
Had she.
She had.
Loose loosen, Loose losten to losten, to lose.
Many.
If a little if as little if as little as that.
If as little as that, if it is as little as that that is if it is very nearly all of it, her dear her dear does not mention a ball at all.
Actually.
As to this.
Actually as to this.
High or do you do it.
Actually as to this high or do you do it.
Not how do you do it.
Actually as to this.
Not having been or not having been nor having been or not
having been.
Interrupted.
All of this makes it unanxiously.
Feel so.
Add to it.
As add to it.
He.
He.
As add to it.
As add to it.
As he
As he as add to it.
He.
As he
Add to it.
Not so far.
Constantly as seen.
Not as far as to mean.
I mean I mean.
Constantly.
As far.
So far.
Forbore.
He forbore.
To forbear.
Their forbears.
Plainly.
In so far.
Instance.
For instance.
In so far.
poem by Gertrude Stein
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