Related quotes: the weak and the strong...

Synergy

the weak and the strong
hate and love, religion and science,

night and day, sun and moon,
water and fire, heaven and earth

man and God, sky and sea,
the chasm and the abyss,

flowers and grains, grass and pebbles,
bees and butterflies, song and poems,

prose and stories, paper and pen,
cats and dogs and rains, fleas and ants,

water and oil, stone and paper,
scissors and glass and diamonds,

thoughts and actions, friends and foes,
mountains and plains and valleys,

eels and ladles, pins and sands, thread and
needles, stars and fish, sheep and shit,

silence and noise, solitude and emptiness,
i-pods and beans, cells and phones,

cliches and idioms, foams and fowls, and
come to think, well, don't laugh: you and me.

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes

Paper Flowers

You seem like a girl who likes to tell her bed is made
You seem like a girl who likes to wear her pearls
Well Im not the type who likes to dwell,
Save my money or kiss and tell, yeah
Oh why does she water them, paper flowers?
This girl walks up so graciously,
Slips something in my pocket so secretly,
I said: honey, whats this you gave to me?
Oh nothing, water, wait and see
I said: paper flowers, they cant grow!
Just giveem water and let me know,
Giveem water and let me know, giveem water
And let me know
Oh why does she water them, paper flowers?
Paper flowers...
Oh why does she water them, paper flowers?
Paper flowers...
Shes dressed in black as you can see,
She tries so damn hard to be the enemy,
Shes got big black boots, get outta her way,
She wants to kick tomorrow, punch yesterday,
Kick tomorrow, punch yesterday
Oh why does she water them, paper flowers?
Paper flowers...
Turn a light on, turn a different light on
Turn a light on, turn a different light on now
Turn a light on, turn a different light on
Turn a light on, turn a different light on now!
Oh why does she water them, paper flowers?
Paper flowers...

song performed by by Live
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A View

driftwood
with seven twigs
on the shore
as clear as glass
is the water
and all stones and pebbles
are visible

above
blue skies
so blue that the white cotton clouds
appear like sperm cells moving
impregnating
an earth-sky womb

and then
it rains
the water rises
the drift wood again taken
floating
gently to another shore
another island
of white sands

a coconut tree towers
to reach a waft of cloud
winds as cool as ice
sands slipping on the fingers
a leaf from a guyabano tree falls
on the mouth
of a sleeping woman
beside her
the man whose arms are enclosing
her throughout
the rainy night

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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song performed by by George Strait
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Hand Over Fist

Words by neil peart, music by geddy lee and alex lifeson
Hand over fist
Paper around the stone
Scissors cut the paper
Cut the paper to the bone
Hand over fist
Paper around the stone
Scissors cut the paper
And the rock must stand alone
I could disappear into the crowd
But not if I keep my head in the clouds
I could walk away so proud
Its easy enough if you dont laugh too loud
I thought I was okay alone
Wait for the postman and the telephone
Lost in a world of my own
I thought I could run alone
Thought I could run through the night alone
Hand over hand
Doesnt seem so much
Hand over hand
Is the strength of the common touch
You talk as we walk along
You never imagined I could be so wrong
Humming your favorite song
You know Ive hated that song for so long
How can we ever agree?
Like the rest of the world
We grow farther apart
I swear you dont listen to me
Holding my hand to my heart
Holding my fist to my racing heart
Take a walk outside myself
In some exotic land
Greet a passing stranger
Feel the strength in his hand
Feel the world expand
I feel my spirit resist
But I open up my fist
Lay hand over hand over
Hand over fist

song performed by by Rush
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Know His World

the center table is the sun
and the chairs around are his planets
the walls are the horizons
the floors are the abyss
his words on paper scattered stars
his dogs and cats his zodiac
his silence his void
doubts his ripples
in the sea of galaxy
where his soul
is immersed.

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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What I Would Say

What I would say to you if you were near,
if this definitive namelessness that walks me down to the river
to add my tears to the flowing, to sit on my rock
and stare at my self in reverse on a throne of water
enrobed in my star-dazzled solitude, setting fire
to poems I never wanted to own,
every burning lily of paper floating away
like another crown I've set free
from this domain of air and shadows
to seek its own regency, its own unknowable moment of shining,
weren't the eyeless oblivion that engendered us both.
I would say to you in the pyres and the petals
of these wild wounded swans, in the black down and ash
of these exorcised ghosts, in the dream wakes
of these poems that confess their love to the flames
with every exhalation, with every feather of smoke
gone to smudge the sky of the stars that brought them here
in the form of a man, I would say,
it was always the hive of your silence
that was the fairest likeness of you, the bluest honey
rarer than night, I've ever tasted.
And I'd try not to talk too much,
letting the fish jump for the two of us,
and the winged serpents of the luminosity slip away
like things not said into the water
and I'd draw you in under the bough of my arm
that was never much of a yoke
as if you were the fruit of an astounded tree,
and hold you a long time in the vastness
before I turned to kiss you for everything
and fall down back into the silver grass
to make love to you on the moon.
And you in my arms again, your cheek on my chest
your leg across mine, my hand, a wing of tender caresses,
I would mingle blood and starlight
with the wine of your body and being
like a chalice lying empty by the river
that has brought us both to drink from one another
like the deer that will come out later from the grove
to drink from their own reflections. And gestures of life and death
would flutter through me like the red-winged blackbirds
among the sceptres of the cattails,
and I'd want to thank and accuse the incomprehensible sky
for this night of being human long enough
to understand its brevity is its beauty
and its brevity goes on forever like you and I,
burnt poems, wounded swans, lovers, indelibly.

Life is suggested to us, never proclaimed,
like the course of the river, as the limbs of the fallen oak
look as if they're trying to swim, and one poem
more enduring than the rest,
floats downstream under a frozen elbow
raised to take the next stroke,
and with a final flare as it comes to the end of itself
levitates up into the air and disappears like a buddha
into the absolute perfect emptiness of an enlightenment
that grasps at nothing. Form
is emptiness; emptiness is form, and the poem
had a good death I suppose as a lifeboat in flames,
and though you're not with me now,
we've never been apart, as the shadow of an unknown bird
lands on the water, and then another,
and I think of them as you and I
arriving somewhere together out of the sky and the night
and the bright vacancy
between the sidereal knots
in the nets of the constellations, to drift among the stars awhile
weary of flying, two poems back from the dead.

And I wonder what love is, knowing
love is I wonder what love is,
as the fireflies flash their assent,
and the cars pass in the distance on highbeam,
and the frogs spring away from their flints. And I come here
as much for the island that spreads the stream
into the water legs of a woman
like the orchid of her sex, as to be alone with myself
like a wharf deeply saddened by a thousand farewells,
to launch my fleet of poems
like the blossoms of the abandoned orchard on the far bank.
I like being a child alone on the shores of things,
turning the stones over, lost like a fragrance
among the whispering flowers, ruling my loneliness like a stick.
And I've always asked questions no one could answer,
awed by the fact of being here at all
under stars I can name like personal friends, but here,
everything's got a mouth of its own to answer,
and the answers seem more timeless for being left unsaid.

And I'm never as old by these waters
as I am anywhere else, and the dusty apricot of the moon
you told me to watch as you would
is always so much more on this undulant black mirror
than a window will ever be able to say to a man at a desk.
There's a birch and three willows
and the third of the three is you
dipping your hair in the water
as if your roots weren't enough for the glass.
And it's no surprise to know you know how
to drink the whole river in a single gulp
and swallow a whole star with your eyes
in a single glimmer
the way a solitary dropp of water
at the tip of the tongue of the stargrass
entirely fits the entire skin of the sky
because I already know how you can consume the whole of me
from the night song in the flight of the bird in my voice
and from a single hair of your head,
or the eyelash on your cheek
that is all that separates us now,
from the ashes on the last breath of a single burning poem.
I can be here with you as I have always been
on the other side of death
where everything in creation
above and below this river of night,
from the furthest galaxy
to the dragonfly on my right
is expanding like a lily of fire into us,
as if we were the emptiness that receives the light.
So it's easy to know where it's all going,
releasing these little fire-boats on the stream,
raising themselves up like the breathless flowers of a dream
rooted in the infinite depths of the knowing,
it's always, like birds and stars and fish in the flowing,
been going to us.

poem by Patrick White
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Pins And Needles

(Janis Carnes, Rick Carnes, Chip Hardy)
Chorus:
Pins and needles
Needles and pins
One by one I feel them at my heart again
I think I'm getting over you and then
Pins and needles
Needles and pins
I don't know why
I get uneasy
Every time I hear your name
I feel a sting from every memory
That we made
Repeat Chorus
That tiny ache
Can always find me
Anytime that you are near
Those little things
Can still remind me
That you don't care
Repeat Chorus
(Pins and needles
Pins and needles
Pins and needles
Needles and pins)

song performed by by Reba Mcentire
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Political Theory

the way you manage things
pertains to an ordinary garden
weeding out the bad ones
cultivating the ideals
the snakes are caught and
cut to pieces
and the rats poisoned
and the trees pruned
the paths cleaned of rocks
and pebbles
you level mountains
desiring the plains
and the neighborhood claps
their hand and shall make
new monuments for you
there are words of praises
but not from me

for in my garden
the snakes thrive with the rats
the moss grows well with the stone
the grasses and the buffaloes
the rivers and the reeds
the fish and crocodiles
the bees and the flowers
the mountains stay as is
and the plains spread as they wish

i just let themselves be
and they are all very happy.

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Faithful Poet To His Craft....

he is getting bald over
words
emaciated having forgotten
several meals
because he is faithful to
his craft

everyday he writes
more poems than he could
muster
for his heavenly muses

on paper the poems become
written
well sculpted with curves
and smooth finishes

he does not know whether
they are read somewhere
but he does not care

on nights when he finds himself
alone and abandoned
by fate
he makes a fire
at the center of his yard
puts all those paper poems
there
all burned
smokes like some forms of
ghosts
go to the night skies
to be with the countless stars
in the extreme cold
of silence

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Pins & Needles

(janis carnes, rick carnes, chip hardy)
Chorus:
Pins and needles
Needles and pins
One by one I feel them at my heart again
I think Im getting over you and then
Pins and needles
Needles and pins
I dont know why
I get uneasy
Every time I hear your name
I feel a sting from every memory
That we made
Repeat chorus
That tiny ache
Can always find me
Anytime that you are near
Those little things
Can still remind me
That you dont care
Repeat chorus
(pins and needles
Pins and needles
Pins and needles
Needles and pins)

song performed by by Reba Mcentire
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The fire and the water

The fire belongs to heaven

It was stolen by Prometheus

and was brought to the earth

The fire however always wants to

go back home in the skies

The flames always clamour for that

looking up with hissing tongue

The fire seeks to burn the earth into ethereal heaven

The water belongs to the earth

The demon Vritra robbed the earth of its water

and hid it in the caverns of heaven

But the water longs for its home and groans

through the thundering cloud

till it comes back home in earth

in rains

When do the fire of the skies

and the water of the mingle?

Do they ever mingle?

poem by Dr. Ramesh Chandra Mukhopadhyaya
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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What I Would Say To You

What I would say to you if you were near,
if this definitive namelessless that walks me down to the river
to add my tears to the flowing, to sit on my rock
and stare at my self in reverse on a throne of water
enrobed in my star-dazzled solitude, setting fire
to poems I never wanted to own,
every burning lily of paper floating away
like another crown I've set free
from this domain of air and shadows
to seek its own regency, its own unknowable moment of shining,
weren't the eyeless oblivion that engendered us both;
I would say to you in the pyres and the petals
of these wild wounded swans, in the black down and ash
of these exorcised ghosts, in the dream wakes
of these poems that confess their love to the flames
with every exhalation, with every feather of smoke
gone to smudge the sky of the stars that brought them here
in the form of a man, I would say,
it was always the hive of your silence
that was the fairest likeness of you, the bluest honey
rarer than night, I've ever tasted.
And I'd try not to talk too much,
letting the fish jump for the two of us,
and the winged serpents of the luminosity slip away
like things not said into the water
and I'd draw you in under the bough of my arm
that was never much of a yoke
as if you were the fruit of an astounded tree,
and hold you a long time in the vastness
before I turned to kiss you for everything
and fall down back into the silver grass
to make love to you on the moon.
And you in my arms again, your cheek on my chest
your leg across mine, my hand, a wing of tender caresses,
I would mingle blood and starlight
with the wine of your body and being
like a chalice lying empty by the river
that has brought us both to drink from one another
like the deer that will come out later from the grove
to drink from their own reflections. And gestures of life and death
would flutter through me like the red-winged blackbirds
among the scepters of the cattails,
and I'd want to thank and accuse the incomprehensible sky
for this night of being human long enough
to understand its brevity is its beauty
and its brevity goes on forever like you and I,
burnt poems, wounded swans, lovers, indelibly.

Life is suggested to us, never proclaimed,
like the course of the river, as the limbs of the fallen oak
look as if they're trying to swim, and one poem
more enduring than the rest,
floats downstream under a frozen elbow
raised to take the next stroke,
and with a final flare as it comes to the end of itself
levitates up into the air and disappears like a buddha
into the absolute perfect emptiness of an enlightenment
that grasps at nothing. Form
is emptiness; emptiness is form, and the poem
had a good death I suppose as a lifeboat in flames,
and though you're not with me now,
we've never been apart, as the shadow of an unknown bird
lands on the water, and then another,
and I think of them as you and I
arriving somewhere together out of the sky and the night
and the bright vacancy
between the sidereal knots
in the nets of the constellations, to drift among the stars awhile
weary of flying, two poems back from the dead.

And I wonder what love is, knowing
love is I wonder what love is,
as the fireflies flash their assent,
and the cars pass in the distance on highbeam,
and the frogs spring away from their flints. And I come here
as much for the island that spreads the stream
into the waterlegs of a woman
like the orchid of her sex, as to be alone with myself
like a wharf deeply saddened by a thousand farewells,
to launch my fleet of poems
like the blossoms of the abandoned orchard on the far bank.
I like being a child alone on the shores of things,
turning the stones over, lost like a fragrance
among the whispering flowers, ruling my loneliness like a stick, .
and I've always asked questions no one could answer,
awed by the fact of being here at all
under stars I can name like personal friends, but here,
everything's got a mouth of its own to answer,
and the answers seem more timeless for being left unsaid.

And I'm never as old by these waters
as I am anywhere else, and the dusty apricot of the moon
you told me to watch as you would
is always so much more on this undulant black mirror
than a window will ever be able to say to a man at a desk.
There's a birch and three willows
and the third of the three is you
dipping your hair in the water
as if you were trying to root in glass.
And it's no surprise to know you know how
to drink the whole river in a single gulp
and swallow a whole star with your eyes
in a single glimmer
the way a solitary dropp of water
at the tip of the tongue of the stargrass
entirely fits the entire skin of the sky
because I already know how you can consume the whole of me
from the nightsong in the flight of the bird in my voice
and from a single hair of your head,
or the eyelash on your cheek
that is all that separates us now,
from the ashes on the last breath of a single burning poem,
so I can be here with you as I have always been
on the other side of death
where everything in creation
above and below this river of night,
from the furthest galaxy
to the dragonfly on my right
is expanding like a lily of fire into us,
as if we were the emptiness that receives the light.
So it's easy to know where it's all going;
releasing these little fire-boats on the stream,
raising themselves up like the breathless flowers of a dream
rooted in the infinite depths of the knowing,
it's always, like birds and stars and fish
been flowing into us.

poem by Patrick White
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

Consummation Of Grief

I even hear the mountains
the way they laugh
up and down their blue sides
and down in the water
the fish cry
and the water
is their tears.
I listen to the water
on nights I drink away
and the sadness becomes so great
I hear it in my clock
it becomes knobs upon my dresser
it becomes paper on the floor
it becomes a shoehorn
a laundry ticket
it becomes
cigarette smoke
climbing a chapel of dark vines. . .
it matters little
very little love is not so bad
or very little life
what counts
is waiting on walls
I was born for this
I was born to hustle roses down the avenues of the dead.

poem by Charles Bukowski
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Under The Water

Bees are buzzin in their honey catacomb
All the noise seems to call my head a home
Cant escape the scratchin
My blood makes a noise
Its hard not to play when there are so many toys
So many toys
Under the water
The total is more than the sum
Under the water
I hear who Ill become
Theres a hole inside my head where all the thoughts break out
Sometimes my flesh is filled with forgetfulnes and doubt
Its easy to feel separate, no control of the reigns
Innocence aint lost it just needs to be maintained
It needs to be maintained
Beside me are strange fish, moody and dark
A tapestry of intention that maintains the spark
And theres a tiny light
A flicker within
Forgiveness is the needle that knows how to mend
It knows how to mend
Under the water
The total is more than the sum
Under the water
I hear who Ill become
(spoken rap)
Ive decided to hear who we will become
Wanna lay down in the water, go back to where Im from
Outer space is just a puzzle of stars
Music the mechanics of the human heart
A post that stirs, a shadow that casts
An insatiable thirst drains a martini glass
Theres no place sacred, no honest reflection
Our senses made senseless by a lack o direction
Monks are great with their fists uncurled
But they live in a cave, they know nothin of the world
I wanna live brave, I wanna love without fear
But its hard to navigate when I cant even hear
(do do do do do do do,
Do do do do)
Bees are buzzin in their honey catacomb
All the noise seems to call my head a home
Cant escape the scratchin
My blood makes a noise
Its hard not to play when there are so many toys
Therere so many toys
Under the water
The total is more than the sum
Under the water
I hear who Ill become
Under the water
My flesh is filled with stars
Under the water
I hear who we really are
Under the water
I lay my burdens down, down, down
Under the water
All resistance drowns
(do do do do do do do, do do do do)
(do do do do do do do, do do do do)
(do do do do do do do, do do do do)
(do do do do do do do, do do do do)
(do do do do do do do, do do do do)
Come on, come down, down, down under go,
A-go down on and go down under
Go under the water
I hear who Ill become
Under the water
I lay my problems down
Under the water
All my resistance drowned

song performed by by Jewel
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Paper And Pen

Paper and pen
Trying to write a song again
Paper and pen
Paper and pen

Can’t think of anything to say today
Can’t think of anything to do
Can’t think of anything to play today
Minds gone blank
Leaving me here, just sitting here
Listening to my hair grow

Paper and pen
Paper and pen

And I look towards you
For an inspiration or a word or two
I try but I find
Every road only leads me back to these lines

Paper and pen
Paper and pen

Paper and pen
Piano, guitar
I try but don't get very far
Paper and pen
Piano, guitar

Paper and pen
Trying to write a song again
Paper and pen
Paper and pen

poem by Colin Coplin
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Love The Fish

The fish wither away in a week,
Wobbling like jelly of fire;
Water is weak, strong men are like fish,
As chickens feed on us
Like the birds of flight.
While wishes mend the hearts,
Whimpering dogs collect tears
As their owner smacks them
For barking and being.
The fish are united,
Inside the sea watching.
But we wobble like them
Inside our homes with pity.
This pretty sense wishes me
To be like a moon of fishes.
I circle the sea and demand
The love of an animal.

poem by Naveed Akram
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Of Gods Amongst Men.....

man is always
a crowd and gods
mix,

in the confusion
of sorts,
the become one and
the same

all pebbles and sands
and wind
and night

except perhaps
some flickers
could be fireflies
and

zephyrs
stars

diamonds or
mere
grains of sand
reflecting
a late
afternoon sun.

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Hand Wielding the Pen and Gun

I write poems by this hand
which helped my mother
to crush the grains in a stone mortar
by raising and hitting down with the pestle
before the grinding mills came to a nearby town.

I write poems by this hand
which got wounds swinging the hammer
to hit hard on rods to make holes into the rock
in our deep well, and filled them, with explosives
to blow off and find the burst of water.

I write poems by this hand
which drove the bulls cracking the whip
while ploughing and moving the cart
and drawing water from the well in leather sacks,
before the electrons flew through the wires to my village.

I write poems by this hand
which uprooted for wages the groundnut plants
beside the ghats from morn till dark on school holidays,
when the lack of rains shrivelled
our crops at our village.
I write poems by this hand
which made the eyes of professors wet
by scribbling short stories in my classical tongue.

I write poems by this hand
which quenched my thirst and of the kin
fetching waters from the falls in the hills
where herbs with healing powers grow.

I write poems by this hand
which feels restless to wield the gun
on seeing the coffins of our soldiers
taken to the graveyard in silence `
overwhelming with rage and fire.
---------

poem by Rajendran Muthiah
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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A Dream Of Water Moon!

Cool bright Moon shines bright in the Starry night Sky!
Dreams of Moon absorb poets, scientists, lovers, all!
Even in Honey Moon dream of water Moon never dries!
Polluting water on Earth man searches water in Moon!

Physical feature is contrasting between Earth and Moon!
Green vegetation, blue water and white ice make Earth
Unique with atmosphere all round protecting it forever!
Sands, rocks with ice at tips Moon is sans atmosphere!

Rotating itself Earth revolves round the Sun night or day;
But Moon’s bright side and dark side are fixed forever!
The mystery of dark side Moon is in suspense since long;
The frozen sides of Moon are – 238 degrees is still chilling!

Water Moon has indeed become a great interest for all and
Many nations are vying with one another to see water there!

poem by Ramesh T A
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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You Know What Happens When Love Is Gone

she knows what happens when love is gone:

the sun turns black
and the moon becomes red
and the trees become like
some grass in the
brackish water of
the marshes
where the air
stinks like a pond
where all the frogs
are dead
and rotten

where the dragonflies
are headless
where the wings
of the butterflies
turn into threads

the sea is gray
and the sands
are pins hurting
to our feet

the leaves
are skeletal
and the stems
are spikes
of bicycles
without wheels

you know what happens
when your love is gone

but take a look at me
when you finally decided
to throw my love away

i still bloom
as a mushroom
after the thunder
the lightning
and the storm

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

En.Citatepedia^®.ro

Synergy

Related quotes

Paper Flowers

A View

Stars On The Water

Hand Over Fist

Know His World

What I Would Say

Pins And Needles

A Political Theory

Faithful Poet To His Craft....

Pins & Needles

The fire and the water

What I Would Say To You

Consummation Of Grief

Under The Water

Paper And Pen

Love The Fish

Of Gods Amongst Men.....

The Hand Wielding the Pen and Gun

A Dream Of Water Moon!

You Know What Happens When Love Is Gone

En.Citatepedia®.ro

Synergy

Related quotes

Paper Flowers

A View

Stars On The Water

Hand Over Fist

Know His World

What I Would Say

Pins And Needles

A Political Theory

Faithful Poet To His Craft....

Pins & Needles

The fire and the water

What I Would Say To You

Consummation Of Grief

Under The Water

Paper And Pen

Love The Fish

Of Gods Amongst Men.....

The Hand Wielding the Pen and Gun

A Dream Of Water Moon!

You Know What Happens When Love Is Gone

En.Citatepedia^®.ro