That First Poem...heliotropic
boxed
i once wrote about
cells
there was a hole at the
right side
of the top sort of
ceiling of the house
a leak
light filtering in
hoping that
the seed survives
and extends its
tendril
finally to the sun
i think it was
always about
a escape either from
a box
a bottle or some bars
of steel
a high fence
pointed gates
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Related quotes
A Fence
Now the stone house on the lake front is finished and the
workmen are beginning the fence.
The palings are made of iron bars with steel points that
can stab the life out of any man who falls on them.
As a fence, it is a masterpiece, and will shut off the rabble
and all vagabonds and hungry men and all wandering
children looking for a place to play.
Passing through the bars and over the steel points will go
nothing except Death and the Rain and To-morrow.
poem by Carl Sandburg
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Were Gonna Move
(words & music by vera matson - elvis presley)
Well theres a leak in this old building
Yes, theres a leak in this old building
Well theres a leak in this old building
Were gonna move to a better home
We got no pane in this old window
We got no pane in this old window
We got no pane in this old window
Were gonna move to a better home
Well theres a hole in the roof where the rain pours in
A hole in the floor where it drops right out again
Well theres a leak in this old building
Well theres a leak in this old building
Well theres a leak in this old building
Were gonna move to a better home
Well theres a crack across the ceiling
Yes theres a crack across the ceiling
Well theres a crack across the ceiling
Were gonna find us a better home
Weve gotta stove without a chimney
Weve gotta stove without a chimney
What goods a stove without a chimney
Were gonna move to a better home
Pulling down window shades is no use at all
The kids and the neighbor can peep right through the wall
Well theres a leak in this old building
Well theres a leak in this old building
Well theres a leak in this old building
Were gonna move to a better, move to a better
Move to a better home
song performed by by Elvis Presley
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Bring Another Bottle Baby
Better bring another bottle with you baby
If you really want to party then lets make it swing
Right into the morning.
Better bring another bottle with you baby
Cuz I really want to make this little bell ring.
Ding dong, ding.
I feel cold and I want to get you by my side
I feel bold and I want to show you how this man can ride.
Better bring another bottle with you baby
If you really want to party then lets make it swing
Right into the morning.
Better bring another bottle with you baby
Cuz I really want to make this little bell ring.
Ding dong, ding.
I feel smooth and I really want to live it up
If we groove then I promise you that we won't even stop
Better bring another bottle with you baby
I get the feeling that you want to take off and fly
High, high, well if my ceiling isn't high enough
We'll burn up the sky.
I feel smooth and I really want to live it up
If we groove then I promise you that we won't even stop
Better bring another bottle with you baby
I get the feeling that you want to take off and fly
High, high, well if my ceiling isn't high enough
We'll burn up the sky.
Better bring another bottle with you baby
Better try to bring another bottle now
Better bring another bottle baby
Better bring another bottle with you now.
song performed by by Cat Stevens
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Just A Fence
I say this in truth and not in pretense
All else I wish to own is just a fence
A fence that is made out of steel or wood
Placed around my property as it should
Around my home to protect like a guard
So my dogs won't escape from their yard
I want them to be free without a restraint
To run and play without a neighbors complaint
A fence also to be a barrier from the street
So the many dangers or hazards they will not meet
But sadly I am poor and I have no extra expense
So all that I wish for, is just a fence.
poem by Randy McClave
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Better Bring Another Bottle Baby
Better bring another bottle with you baby
If you really want to party then lets make it swing
Right into the morning.
Better bring another bottle with you baby
Cuz I really want to make this little bell ring.
Ding dong, ding.
I feel cold and I want to get you by my side
I feel bold and I want to show you how this man can ride.
Better bring another bottle with you baby
If you really want to party then lets make it swing
Right into the morning.
Better bring another bottle with you baby
Cuz I really want to make this little bell ring.
Ding dong, ding.
I feel smooth and I really want to live it up
If we groove then I promise you that we wont even stop
Better bring another bottle with you baby
I get the feeling that you want to take off and fly
High, high, well if my ceiling isnt high enough
Well burn up the sky.
I feel smooth and I really want to live it up
If we groove then I promise you that we wont even stop
Better bring another bottle with you baby
I get the feeling that you want to take off and fly
High, high, well if my ceiling isnt high enough
Well burn up the sky.
Better bring another bottle with you baby
Better try to bring another bottle now
Better bring another bottle baby
Better bring another bottle with you now.
song performed by by Cat Stevens
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Teh Mongo Experiment....
yes, we put the mongo seed
inside a carboard box and
there is no opening, not even
a peeping hole,
on the other same sized carboard
box with another similar mongo seed
an orifice is made,
the two sprouted but the one
with the opening finally finds
its exit and we meet the word
heliotropic as discussed by
the late mrs. villasica,
that was years ago,
we were then in grade six
at that time, and
martial law was declared
and there were those who
disappeared
those who finally became
mad, literally
no metaphor intended
then i learned such words
hamletting,
summary execution
government persecution
zoning
martial law babies,
i turn to the mongo seed
experiment without an orifice
deprived of light
though given water
and soil to thrive,
the cardboard box and
the dream of the borrowed light
of the moon
because there is no sun
because there is utter deprivation
we go for dreams as substitute
some died in that hunger strike
at least, dubbed as the child of the
borrowed light of the moon,
one still keeps writing and the other
one still keeps reading
call them the surviving
lunatics
not in the literal sense now
but sort of, in a lighter sense
metaphoric.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Crazy Mary
she lived on a curve in the road, in an old tar-paper shack
On the south side of the town, on the wrong side of the tracks
Sometimes on the way into town we'd say:
"mama, can we stop and give her a ride?"
Sometimes we did but her hands flew from her side
Wild eyed, crazy mary
Down along the road, past the parson's place
The old blue car we used to race
Little country store with a sign tacked to the side
Said "no l-o-i-t-e-r-i-n-g allowed"
Underneath that sign always congregated quite a crowd
Take a bottle, drink it down, pass it around
Take a bottle, drink it down, pass it around
Take a bottle, drink it down, pass it around
One night thunder cracked mercy backed outside her windowsill
Dreamed i was flying high above the trees, over the hills
Looked down into the house of mary
Bare bulb on, newspaper-covered walls, and mary rising up above it all
Next morning on the way into town
Saw some skid marks, and followed them around
Over the curve,through the fields, into the house of mary
That what you fear the most, could meet you halfway
That what you fear the most, could meet you halfway
Take a bottle, drink it down, pass it around
Take a bottle, drink it down, pass it around
Take a bottle, drink it down, pass it around
song performed by by Pearl Jam
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Gates Of Steel (demo Alternate Version)
Twist awy the Gates of Steel
Unlock the secret voice
Give in to ancient noise
take a chance a brand new dance
Twist away the Gates of Steel
Twist away, now twist and shout
The Earth it moves too slow.
But the Earth is all we know
We pay to play the human way..
Twist away the Gates of Steel (a man is real, not made of steel!)
But the Earth is all we know,
we pay to play the human way
twist away the Gates of Steel
The beginning was the end
(of every thing now)
The ape regards his tail
(he's stuck on it)
Repeats until he fails,
half a goon and half a god,
a man's not made of steel
song performed by by Devo
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Grrbrr
I lie so you lie
But I think weve lied too many times
Hit the ceiling of our sky
Why bother my other and call for another
Opposite side
I will freak out and come back
Not gone far enough
I know that I and you will
Sit as a picture
Gerber bottle is fixture
To the fit he was living
Was blown
Captain of motherland
Laughed on by brothers hand
Gotta make that hook-up to come through
You didnt know you got lied to
Hit the ceiling of the sky
You thought you could fly
But your wings are made of wax
I cannot see you
You cannot see me
Cause youre high
Youre too good of a person
song performed by by Papa Roach
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Acknowledgement 1720
Chaste comely maiden, beauty bright,
honed pen, fair heart, begins to write
and all who read well wonder whence
such fairness springs as evidence
extends from pole to pole, day, night
must intermingle, extradite
all thought of envy, pride, high fence,
and low greed's need to seed fresh pence.
Peoples, perceiving peerlesss light,
completely conquered, honoured quite,
acknowledge spell which swells delight.
above ambition's impotence.
(24 January 2008)
poem by Jonathan Robin
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140
jumping to the other side of the fence
i always love the thought of jumping
to the other side of the fence
where the grass is greener
and the air is fresher
my heart beats for all the excitement
when i will be there
on the other side with you
i ask if you will walk beside me
when i am there finally
but you did not say a word
i know i am not welcome
but i still dream of going there
for other possibilities of loving
and be loved without any condition
at all, not necessarily you,
i am a fast learner, you know.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Gates Of Steel
Twist away the gates of steel
Unlock the secret voice
Give in to ancient noise
Take a chance a brand new dance
Twist away the gates of steel
Twist away
Now twist and shout
The earth it moves too slow
But the earth is all we know
We pay to play the human way
Twist away the gates of steel
A man is real
Not made of steel
But the earth is all we know
We pay to play the human way
Twist away the gates of steel
The beginning was the end
Of everything now
The ape regards his tail
Hes stuck on it
Repeats until he fails
Half a goon and half a god
A mans not made of steel
Twist away
Now twist and shout
The earth it moves too slow
But the earth is all we know
We pay to play the human way
Twist away the gates of steel
A man is real thats how he feels
song performed by by Devo
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Freezing Steel
Freezing steel
Ive flown the house of freezing, the house of freezing steel
And though my bodys back I know it cant be real
cause Ive been on that house without a guiding wheel
The house of freezing steel
Oh wheres it going, picked me up at seven
When my eyes were weak from the light of the morning
Oh sister wont you tell me what a man might want to know
This madness is fine, yes if youre mad at the time
Back on the house of freezing, the house of freezing steel
The tied my body up, Im forced to eat my meal
A cold plate of lamb and cold potatoes too
Now whats a soul to do
Oh lord above, brother wont you tell me
Is this a eucharistic dove
cause Ive been waiting for the right one to appear
But Ive seen it in your face, and baby this aint the place
Up on the house of freezing, the house of freezing steel.
I made my mind up then to get me to the wheel
I made the cabin door, the pilot turned around
He said were venus bound
Oh please take me home
After all Im only human and the earth is where I belong
I must have looked pitiful to this freak without a face
cause as he touched my head I saw myself back in bed
Ive flown the house of freezing, the house of freezing steel
And though my bodys back I know it cant be real
cause Ive been on that house without a guiding wheel
The house of freezing steel
song performed by by Cat Stevens
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Note You Never Wrote
Later on, the story goes,
A bottle floated out to sea.
After days, when it had found the perfect spot,
It opened up,
And I read the note that you never wrote to me
After all, Im sure you know,
The mayor of baltimore is here.
After days now he can finally appear,
Now at last hes here,
But he never is gonna get my vote,
cause he never is gonna get a quote
From the little note
That you never wrote to me.
Further on, along the line,
I was arrested on the shore,
Holding papers of governments galore.
I was taken in,
But I read the note that you never wrote.
Yes, I read the note that you never wrote.
Oh, I read the note that you never wrote to me.
To me.
To me.
To me.
song performed by by Paul McCartney
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Said Before To Say It Again
On my mind are these times.
And I do find these times on my mind,
Hard to define.
With a keeping of those,
Feeling these times have them boxed in.
And on my mind,
There is a reason to seek rhythm and rhyme.
With my visions set,
On what it would take...
To increase my happiness.
I've said this before to say it again.
I'm not looking for stoppers,
To block as obstacles to hop over.
Or the welcoming arms of acceptance.
With a hope that they will open,
The gates to a fence to feel I've been approved.
On my mind are these times.
And I do find these times on my mind,
Hard to define.
With a keeping of those,
Feeling these times have them boxed in.
Acceptance or not,
I'm not looking to get out of a box.
Too many have found themselves there,
To argue over space,
With little of it that to share.
I've said this before to say it again.
Those feeling trapped,
Like it exactly like that.
Fresh is the air,
One dares to breathe alone.
Revitalized is an atmosphere,
When the clearing of a sky,
Becomes recognized to the one who looks...
To discover the vastness of it to become known.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Two
The steam hammer pounds with a regularity on steel I should envy.
Neither the hammer nor the steel seems to be suffering from this
terrible meeting between them, proving something vaguely pointed,
that some things must be done, regardless of cost, and finally the
cost too is absorbed in the doing that has become a ritual between
two fated opponents.
poem by David Ignatow
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Escape
you are in prison and you know it
there are no bars
but you simply feel the closing in of space
around you and you sense the choking
and tightening
of your body with so much pressure
against the walls
of your imagination
the concrete beams
and ceiling moving
towards the floor
and you are at the middle
of all these things
you want to escape
and you assume the shape of a very small bird
growing wings on your sides
like the new born leaves
of a seed
without still the claws and beak and tongue
you fly away
unhesitantly without so much waste
of time
& words
except the note
of a very sad song
left on the barren floor
for someone
you no longer love
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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The Love That You Can Offer To The Broken Woman
you see this broken woman
outside the house outside the fence finally
under the noonday sun
she walks without an umbrella
looking forward to another day
on weary feet
she takes the path that carries her
to her freedom
i wrote a poem last night
and i knew she was able to read it
i did not see whether her hands tremble
but she asked me
if i have this kind of love to offer
to make her live to make her dream
she is free now and in truth
i do not really know what i have
everything i have is in the house
and there is a woman there
who owns the letters of my name
who keeps the key
to the door that is locked
and she says
i am chained there and she brags that i am
the willing victim
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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The House Story
the fence keeps a happy disposition.
it does not need it. The house does.
despite its disagreement with the door,
somehow, i gives a square disposition,
as though, everything here is tolerable,
the house is keeping so many secrets
shying away from the scrutiny of visitors
but it trusts the fence and can sleep
soundly at night, except the light bulb
which is fixed at the back of the kitchen
it keeps on blinking, wanting to tell it all,
but the master switch of the basement is quick
everything is shut off, and then the silence
reigns, it is the queen, it grieves
without a word, it takes in what the house
cannot take anymore, and the fence as the
facade, maintains its happy disposition,
deceiving all that merely pass by.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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4 Southwest Chief/LA Central
(copyrighted material, Coffee House Press)
#4 Southwest Chief/LA Central
FOR DERYA AND HEID
The sheen of incandescent lamppost light travels this rail,
up ahead the Conductor
reminds us, if there’s anything
we can do to make your trip worthless just let us know
and no one cracks a smile.
This Amtrak car glides between
concrete pillars wrapped with steel for quake protection.
Projects plastered in graffiti by day now sink into 9: 00 p.m. comfortable-
this time of night you’d think they were condos
if you rode this rail for the first time.
What I see is concertina riding chain link fence tops-
as if there is an escape attempt due any moment.
Then, somehow, I see myself in the window. Not a reflection
but an actual replica looking back at me and at the glare,
over further than a bounce of light could flash, where
planes coming in to land look like falling stars,
and I’m taking my mother to the asylum in my memory.
I can still hear her saying, bad, bad girl and look
at the pretty stars and Christmas lights sometime late July.
L.A. River on my left, tonight there’s water more than trickle down.
Along the concrete banks where someone wrote out: RECKLESS
a concrete mixer is parked right by the river and rail,
and one single truck has its lights on bright.
By morning, jump-starts will cardiac it back to life.
My gut aches. The whole world’s in a window at Fullerton and
through arches, past electric globes, it spins
high over a Pepsi machine on the floor far below.
Bad, bad girl. Look at the pretty stars and Christmas lights.
FROM OFF-SEASON CITY PIPE, COFFE HOUSE PRESS,2005.
poem by Allison Hedge Coke
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