En.Citatepedia^®.ro

Stay Put

dearly beloved
my dearly beloved self
stay put
sit and settle upon your
feet haggled upon your
hands upon your fingers
let all things come
upon you
the air caressing your body
the world under your feet
your soul crowned by the clouds
the space the universe
building its castle upon you
this being
hugged by everywhere
and everything

chair offering a seat for you
house offering a roof
stairs spreading before your feet
they are all coming
for you have become aware
and enlightened and
set free.

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Hey There Beloved

Hey there beloved why are you walking away from me?
Hey there beloved don't you know all those gifts are from me?
Hey there beloved I carried you through your storms
Hey there beloved come back to me
Hey there beloved don't you know I'm waiting with open arms
Hey there beloved I wish you were not blind but could turn back and see
Hey there beloved don't you notice my art?
Hey there beloved my love for you is in every night sky
Hey there beloved look for my love in the sunset
Hey there beloved, the sun is for you
Hey there beloved the coolness of clouds is for your enjoyment
Hey there beloved I love you
Hey there beloved You can walk away

Hey there beloved it makes me cry when you chase other lovers, but
Hey there beloved I'll let you go because I want you to choose me
Hey there beloved I want you to learn to love me
Hey there beloved don't go to them
Hey there beloved they cannot fill you up
Hey there beloved, I'll never give up on you

Hey there beloved I'm full of tears
Hey there beloved I made you for so much more
Hey there beloved you don't have to dress like that
Hey there beloved they don't really love you
Hey there beloved you're more than just a body
Hey there beloved you don't have to try to be something you're not
Hey there beloved I still love you

Hey there beloved you don't have to earn my love
Hey there beloved those things won't satisfy you
Hey there beloved heed my voice that path will destroy you
Hey there beloved you're broken, but
Hey there beloved my heart breaks for you
Hey there beloved can't you see the brokenness?
Hey there beloved why do you ignore me
Hey there beloved.... I love you with all that I am
Hey there beloved, that's everything there is

Hey there beloved I love you with my entire being
Hey there beloved that's grander than the universe itself
Hey there beloved you've strayed so far away
Hey there beloved I'll always call you back
Hey there beloved I'll always be waiting
Hey there beloved I still love y-
Hey there beloved h--
Hey there be-----
Hey--------
H--------

______ ______________

poem by David Knox
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Dearly Beloved (write To Me)

Write me a poem, dearly beloved,
Write of your love, your fidelity, your proclivity
For doing what is right for me, not what is right;
Speak to me of what you feel
Not sugared words served on pity tarts
Write me a poem, dearly beloved,
If you cannot, then contend to break my heart.

Write me a prose, dearly beloved,
Then narrate it on an elevated stand
To the heavens and the sea and whatever lies betwixt
The shadows of both so that all can hear;
Speak only truth for I cannot stomach lies of such art
Write me a prose, dearly beloved,
If you cannot, then contend to break my heart.

Write me a sonnet, dearly beloved
And sing it by the edge of the fast flowing stream
Sing to me as if you sang to all the forest
And called forth its life from the concealing leaves of jade
And of this assembly of the innocent, I shall be an active part
So write me a sonnet, dearly beloved,
If you cannot, then contend to break my heart.

poem by Samah Khan
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What You Can Do....

dearly beloved
promise yourself not to forget poetry
you cannot say that, unless you are prepared to be another congenital liar,
your lips miss always the metaphors that please your tongue
that tastes the sweetness of nectar words
inside the receptacles of your flower-mind

come, dearly beloved
for the meantime leave the daily cares of your search for comfort
forget the greenish look of the almighty money
come with me
let us sing the songs of our perdition
let us ring the bells of of our death
to art, say it again, to art i must live and die and live and die
and die again

only to be redeemed by the powers of its beauty
its grace that saves us
ultimately from the evils of boredom
of too much familiarity to the insignificant
and the worldly,

dearly beloved we set free our butterflies
into the infinite skies of our
immortal existence.

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Sometimes I wish I were not a part of you

My feet are pinched
With needles.
Your hands are not there.

I try to relieve myself from pain.
It is not happening.
There is no miracle.
There is no cure.

The world is a big space.
I can leave anytime and
Take the shape
Of air.

I can be gone.
How come that I become
A part of you
And her?

I do not remember myself coming
Here and sitting on this chair.
Fate.
Cruel fate.
I want to leave but I cannot go
I do not want to stay but I am staying.

How I wish I were not a part
Of this mess:
This cruelty inflicted
From your hand
To my hand.

How I wish I were
Someone else

Here I am.
I am your hair to your head.
Your fingers to your hand.
Your toes to your feet.

I guess. We must learn to live
With each other.
Dislikes disregarded
We begin
Our silent wars.

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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The Literal Pain

with due respect to
poetry
let me set aside
you,
to the comfort of
your rhyme,
let me try prose this
time
so i can make my point
clear,
dearly beloved,
let me confess to you
my enduring
pains, my inviolate
resolve
to go away far from
all that is
sweet and adorable,
let me bleed this time
in the most
accurate description
of a narrative
dearly beloved,
now you must
understand that pain
is not
a metaphor,
it is literal,
it is real.

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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447

Sometimes I wish I were not a part of you
========================================== ================

My feet are pinched
With needles.
Your hands are not there.

I try to relieve myself from pain.
It is not happening.
There is no miracle.
There is no cure.

The world is a big space.
I can leave anytime and
Take the shape
Of air.

I can be gone.
How come that I become
A part of you
And her?

I do not remember myself coming
Here and sitting on this chair.
Fate.
Cruel fate.
I want to leave but I cannot go
I do not want to stay but I am staying.

How I wish I were not a part
Of this mess:
This cruelty inflicted
From your hand
To my hand.

How I wish I were
Someone else

Here I am.
I am your hair to your head.
Your fingers to your hand.
Your toes to your feet.

I guess. We must learn to live
With each other.
Dislikes disregarded
We begin
Our silent wars.

==================================== ======================

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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In the spirit of Rumi - 80 - Meditation

To the Lord, my Beloved, I said,
my Beloved: often I pray to You,
but more often, I confess,
it is to ask from You;
less often, to thank You or to praise You…

teach me, then, about meditation,
which men say to be a way
to be near You,
even beyond thanks or praise…

the Lord, my Beloved, said,
O you whom I love dearly as Myself,
whose praise and thanks are dear to Me
in ways that only I may know…
such is My nature, and is that of yours,
that only meditation may teach you meditation…

but this is all I ask of you:
that twice a day – and best,
at dawn and dusk, which are
the times I can be known to walk
in My garden of the world,
in the stillness of the morning,
in the stillness of the evening,
when My nature wakes or sleeps in peace…

that twice a day, you spend some time
saying – as if it were only once, and always once –
My name for you; your name for Me;
this will be our time of love;
this will be My test of your true love for Me:

and if at any time, your thoughts
stray away from Me, wandering in
the byways of the world –
that will not diminish My eternal love for you;
it will only mean, that you have forgotten
for the time not being, My love for you –

but if you truly love Me, then you will return
as a straying son returns,
and if you truly love Me,
you will then, know My love’s increase..

this will be our daily time together,
you and I; that is all I ask of you;

yet if, in all the other hours of the day,
I seem to you to stay
so much the nearer to you, close to you –
then that is but the mark of My love for you,
O you whom I love dearly as Myself;

so, together, let us speak each other’s name,
as lovers always shall.

poem by Michael Shepherd
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His Saint Feet

The feet of our Lord walked
Along the dusty roads,
Scratched by the stones.

Along the narrow paths,
Cared by the green grasses.
Those Saint Feet were not aware of tiredness,
He walked His way with worthiness.

Beyond an ordinary strength those feet walked.
Days and nights,
Proclaiming to avoid the fights.
Those feet were washed by tears,
Those feet didn’t know any fears.

People knew those feet,
They didn’t want them to bleed.
Those who brought their sin to His feet
Were blessed and greeted.

That’s how he treated everyone.
But a betrayal was done.
His body was crucified.
Some people cried,
Some stood aside.

The same happens today.
And here I would like to say:
If you don’t trust
You will stay in dust.

And if you are a sinner,
Looking for salvation
Or wishing to get rid of temptation
Kneel before His feet,
Pray and ask for forgiveness
And you will go up to fineness.

poem by Larisa Rzhepishevska
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Take A Load Of Your Feet

I do them when Im down in the tub
With avocado cream theyll take a rub
They wrinkle like a-raisins if I stay too long
I wouldnt want to do it wrong
Theyll put you in the drivers seat
And to the table when you want to eat
But when you go to sit down in your chair
Something else has gotta put you there
Take good care of your feet, pete
You better watch out what you eat, pete
Better take care of your life
cause nobody else will
Theyll twinkle when you fall in love
And put you there when you jump up above
When youre on the spot, get em right under you
One, then the other too
If you want to do the right thing for em
Just take a walk in the grass
But dont you catch yourself fallin
Or steppin on a piece of glass
(ouch glass)
Pete knows all the treacherous blows
The fallen arches and the cramp in the toes
He went to h. e. l. p. and got some sandals new
And dusty old saunas too
Take a load of your feet pete
You better watch out what you eat
Better take care of your life
cause nobody else will
Do do do do do do do do do do
Petes feet are your feet oh
Do do do do do do do do do do
Petes feet are your feet oh
Do do do do do do do do do do
Oh!
Petes feet are your feet oh

song performed by by Beach Boys
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Hat And Feet

Hat And Feet
Fountains Of Wayne
I'm just a hat and feet
That's all that's left of me
A spot on the sidewalk
A mark on the street
I'm just a hat and feet
I'm just a hat and feet
You dropped a bomb on me
I didn't even see
Like a falling piano
From out of the window
Now I'm just a hat and feet
I'm just a hat and feet
I'm just a sitting duck
That ran out of luck
I'm the unhappy guy
That didn't look up high
I started running when I saw it coming
It got faster and louder til I took a powder
Now
I'm just a hat and feet
That's what 's become of me
Flat on the sidewalk
Stuck in the street
I'm just a hat and feet
I'm just a hat and feet

song performed by by Fountains Of Wayne
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Unforeseen Malady

Something that I could not foresee, is what they call neuropathy,
Chemo’s effect on extremities, well below the elbows and knees,
Numbness in my feet and hands, something no one understands,
Unless they dealt with the same, then empathy they can proclaim.

The neuropathy started in my feet, whether I stood or took a seat,
With a feeling both night and day, just like I had socks on to stay,
Soon my walk would be hindered, as the numbness daily lingered,
Causing me to slow my step’s pace, as impediment, I had to face.

The effect in my hands was worse, although my feet were hit first,
Losing my feeling in each finger, as the numbness began to linger;
Now little things I could not grip, even plastic bags, I could not rip,
But this isn’t the end of my story, as Christ gets the ultimate Glory.

Like my taste, that was taken away, it is coming back, day by day,
Becoming more apparent and real, getting stronger with each meal,
It was The Lord to help me cope, as there appeared to be no hope,
But, my taste was stronger each day, returning very shortly to stay.

It is my Lord God and my Creator, not to mention He is my Savior,
By Whom, I can be totally restored, for by Him I am never ignored,
God can restore my hands and feet, putting this malady to defeat,
For it is God, Who will restore me, for He’s The God of all Eternity.

poem by Bob Gotti
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Hat & Feet

Im just a hat and feet
Thats all thats left of me
A spot on the sidewalk
A mark on the street
Im just a hat and feet
Im just a hat and feet
You dropped a bomb on me
I didnt even see
Like a falling piano
From out of a window
Now Im just a hat and feet
Im just a hat and feet
Im just a sitting duck
That ran out of luck
Im the unhappy guy
That didnt look up high
I started running when I saw it coming
It got faster and louder til I took a powder
Now
Im just a hat and feet
Thats what become of me
Flat on the sidewalk
Stuck to the street
Im just a hat and feet
Im just a hat and feet

song performed by by Fountains Of Wayne
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Pointy Toes

Pointy toes,
Elegance shows.
A dancer's feet,
Worn and Weary,
A ballerina's feat,
Makes it look easy.
We abuse our feet,
Scrapped till it bites,
We abuse our feet,
Tie knots too tight,
We abuse our feet,
Stand till sore,
We abuse our feet,
Curl like claw.
High heels, tall.
We abuse our feet,
Bound feet small.
Abuse our feet most than rest of body?
Take care, your feet, Everybody.

poem by Philo Yan
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I Chant Your Name Oh Beloved

Chant Your Name
I chant Your name O Beloved
Like the raindrops on a roof
I chant Your name O Beloved
Like the breeze in the leaves
I chant Your name o beloved
Like the snowflakes on mountain peaks
I chant Your name O Beloved
Like the dew drops in the field
I chant your name O beloved
As Your blood pulsate in my veins
I chant Your name O beloved
As the bees buzz around my head
In silence I chant Your name O Beloved
As they carry my whispered prayers

poem by Persian Khushi
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Beloved

They say that they don't know me
Never saw my face
And if they've never been there
Can they be sure there's such a place
They think if they don't answer
The world will pass them by
But there's a fire in their kitchen
And the water's three feet high and risin'

My beloved
The only one I see standing up for me

Someone's shouting at me
You're all going to hell
Must not be too far away
Sometimes I can never tell
My shoes are still as empty
A mile they never walked
Send in their donation
And they never have to talk again

My beloved
The only one I see standing up for me
My beloved
Close my eyes heal my pride

I just want to show them who I am
I just want to show them what I can do
There's not much use to curse the damned
And there's power in nothing to lose

Someone's spitin' blood
Face down in the dirt
Someone's thinking about a gun
To try and stop the hurt
Someone drew conclusions
On the wall of destiny
Someone's getting louder
And that someone would be me

You think if you don't answer
The world will pass you by
But there's a fire in your kitchen
And the water's three feet high and risin'

song performed by by Melissa Etheridge
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Old Place Of Sin

you already left
for days
laundering your soul
far away

things settle
stones sink

you try to hold your hands
and your feet
but no
they have no minds of their own

they all take you back
to that old house of sin
where you
do not sleep

and honestly you must admit
you like it
too

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Where Perfumed Rivers Flow

Where perfumed rivers flow,
Is the home of my beloved.
Where passing breezes halt,
Is the home of my beloved.

Where dawn arrives on bare toes,
Where night paints henna-beams on feet,
Where fragrance bathes in moonlight,
Is the home of my beloved.

Where rays of light roam nakedly,
In green forests of sandalwood.
Where the flame seeks the lamp,
Is the home of my beloved.

Where sunsets sleep on wide waters,
And the deer leap.
Where tears fall for no reason,
Is the home of my beloved.

Where the farmer sleeps hungry,
Even though the wheat is the color of my beloved,
Where the wealthy ones lie in hiding,
Is the home of my beloved.

Where perfumed rivers flow,
Is the home of my beloved.
Where passing breezes halt,
Is the home of my beloved.

poem by Shiv Kumar Batalvi
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Let Them Be

let the shoes come and accommodate your feet
and the gloves your hands
and your shirt and pants let them all come near you
and wear your body

let all of them come
let them be let them be

let them have you
the shoes will take you to the door of the house
the home you are longing

the stairs meet you
and the windows open like eyes looking out to another face

the floors and ceiling give you a space
where you can sit with the chair
that opens its arms

a glass serves you milk
or orange juice, tell it what you want
to quench your thirst

a saucer, a plate, a spoon and fork
they all come before your hands
some muffins and jelly
they all come before your mouth
they all come to feed your hunger

this is your home now.
Destiny is waiting.

You do not do a thing.
They all do it for you.

There is no worry.
Destiny does it for you.You see.

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Whence Do All These Come From?

each drop
of rain from the leaking roof
rhyming
with the words coming from my thoughts,

each hush of the wind
caressing my face each kiss of the sun
on my hair my lips
each road that is offered to my feet
my fingers holding
smooth thighs

each love, each silence,
all from You

to where shall i then go and call someone
a home?

you.

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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The Love Song of Har Dyal

Alone upon the housetops to the North
I turn and watch the lightnings in the sky--
The glamour of thy footsteps in the North.
Come back to me, Beloved, or I die.

Below my feet the still bazar is laid--
Far, far below the weary camels lie--
The camels and the captives of thy raid.
Come back to me, Beloved, or I die!

My father's wife is old and harsh with years,
And drudge of all my father's house am I--
My bread is sorrow and my drink is tears.
Come back to me, Beloved, or I die!

poem by Rudyard Kipling
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