That Is For......my Eyes Are Closed
1
this is for
The soldier who died today
in your unfinished poem
God has heard all
His sighs.
2
Unfinished poems
Are miraculous
They make God
Hear us
They make us
Think.
they make us
write
our own to finish our own
to fill our own
emptiness
3
He is great
He is good
He is wise
He is omnipresent
He is omnipotent
He is compassionate
He is Love
He is grand
He is the Answer
He is peace
4
Let us have vodka
For a drink
The people here are poor
Let us have rice wine instead.
5
Let not the other half of
The darkness that you see
Create the eclipse of your
Light, let the other half that
You claim you own
shine some more
6
I am watching with my ears
Wide open,
because my eyes are
Closed from the beginning.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa

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Related quotes
Unfinished Business
Took a walk outside, the truth was on my side,
But I didnt even make the corner.
Revolution in my sights, the time seems so right,
But I never even saw it coming.
Cant let it go. oh no, no.
Cant you hear me call, bang my head against the wall,
Cant stay around this place forever.
Cant you see, we gotta be free,
We all gotta come together.
Dont let go, oh no.
Unfinished business,
You thought youd keep me quiet.
You put a bullet in my side, but you cant put out my light.
Unfinished business,
Yes, loves the only way to find peace today.
The futures here today, we gotta find a way,
To put all the pain behind you.
You gotta put down the guns, all religion is one,
Politicians only want to blind you.
Break away, oh theres a way.
Oh, the message is clear, wipe away all the tears,
And build a better world around you.
Got to give out your love to each and every one,
Cant you see its only fear that holds you,
Let it go. oh, let it go.
Unfinished business,
I though that I was right[? ].
What that fool put out that night, [? ] burn so bright.
Unfinished business,
Oh yes, loves the only way to find peace today.
So you thought youd take my life,
Put a bullet in my side, but you cant put out my light.
Unfinished business,
Loves the only way to find peace today.
Unfinished business
Unfinished business
Unfinished business
Theres a long road behind you,
Its a hard life if you make it one
Come on to the other side [? ]
There is no place to hide
Unfinished business
Unfinished business
song performed by by Kinks

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I Too, Like An Unfinished Poem
an unfinished poem sounds like
an incomplete sentence
sometimes just a predicate without a subject
like love unrequited
a verb without a noun
an adjective so misplaced that
it calls for an adverb
it is more like a mouth
that opens but says only some syllables
though you as the reader
understands what the poet
wants to stress and mean and accentuate
for some parts of the poem are meant
not to be finished sometimes
in fact, they are meant to be concealed
and well covered like a bikini
to your.........or the prohibited love
you still keep in your........
or the memories that hurt you and are meant
to be unsaid.......you still want her not to
know..........
i, too, like an unfinished poem
like the sketch of your secret love many, many years ago,
once when you were young
the face is unfinished, you have not drawn the eyes
of that love so profuse that no canvass could ever contain
you still like this love unfinished, who knows
the ripe time comes and both of you
will finish
the unfinished love poem soon......
or some poems cannot ever be finished
because the words to complete them still
do not exist
or they are simply missing,
too lost like you,
they are not there yet to a feeling so new
so fragile and so indescribable.....
so rare........
and i, really, like it that way the poem
unfinishes itself
poem by Ric S. Bastasa

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The unfinished battle
`1The unfinished battle
The strive is not over, if it is not over
It has no ending, not a definite end.
Alas! There is no finish to a war, war-
is not won by victory.this battle of a hero
the good fight of a great protagonist one-
in which no winner emerged.alas! the unaccomplished-
runners, those with women like heart, they are dead.
The great protagonist is not dying, not in this war.
The brave ones never died, they die thousands of times.
the war is a cruel thing sometimes a haven. the peasants,
don’t want it, while an inevitable to the warriors.those who
are lucky with their faith are here in their threshold down,
they are safer indeed in their stony sleep but, the reminants-
in this unfinished battle of ours make this war our war when-
no alternative we got alas! the battle is unfinished.
It has no ending, war is not won by victory.
poem by Ipaye Olawole Peter

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The Morning Poem Did Not Come
THE MORNING POEM DID NOT COME
The morning poem did not come-
So this is the effort of an afternoon poem,
Warm and sun- filled and relaxing and deep and waiting.
This is a poem between times more interesting than itself.
The light is so great now.
But this too is a poem of little or nothing to say
Of afternoon emptiness after morning emptiness
On a tired tired day.
Once I thought I would write poems which would make immortal
Those I love.
Now I write poems to keep myself going.
This afternoon I am extremely tired
But if this is poem
Or even if I only think it is
I can have a rest
Before I face the evening.
poem by Shalom Freedman

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Inside The Void
inside the void
you like to die in the void
you like to die
wait, do not die yet
there is this sense of
things unfinished
you have not really done
everything and some things are messy
and need to be put in their proper order
you are called upon by time to
correct some mistakes
of others, or even of nature itself
it is not time to die yet
this is but a beginning
an emptiness that lectures
and guides and soon shall find
some ways to fill
some things
some people
soon they will come before your
eyes and soon you will understand
things and people may be late
like a fireman like a policeman
but they make a good finishing
a happy ending.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa

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Why I Write?
I write poems for myself and I write for the readers
I write for the masses and I write for the leaders
I write to imprint my thoughts in people's mind
I write to make the bad guys helpful and kind
I write to light up our path to Great God
I write for everyone home and abroad
I write to preserve values new and old
I write to make my ink precious like gold
I write for peace and I write for progress
I write to make the world a better place
All major issues I want to address
I write to see smile on God's face
poem by Asif Andalib

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I Write To Write To Write
I WANT TO WRITE TO WRITE TO WRITE
I write to write to write-
A poem must be more than a straining against Emptiness-
A poem must be more than making a name.
A poem should be food for the heart and soul and mind
It should make us feel the world with new love
It should make us want to live more and more
A poem should make us love life
It should be written for its readers
And not for its poet alone
A poem should make us want to be in this world
In greater beauty and greater love.
poem by Shalom Freedman

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438
To Choose Between A
Hot Breakfast Ready On The Table
And Finishing Another Poem
I Choose The Breakfast
Together With My Wife
This Poem Can Be Suspended
In Time
And Become Another Unfinished
Act Of Creation
By A Man Wanting To Fill This
World With Poems
After A While
When I Have My Fill And When
I Make Some Nice Conversations With My Wife
And My Dog Beside The Table
Looking At Me
For A Piece Of Fried Pork
When The Sipping Of Coffee Is Over
When I Finally Wipe My
Chin With The Sky Blue Napkin
When I Consider
Eating As Finally Over
As Promised
I Will Come Back Again
And Finish This Poem
And There Is Something
Nice In This
Act Of Creation
You Feel It
It Is Warm Like The Hand Of
A Beautiful Woman
It Is As Hot As Ever
Like This Wanton Desire
Lovely,
As Lovely As You Love Each Letter
Of The Word
Of Your Poetry
I Am Feeling It In The Bone
Of My Soul
poem by Ric S. Bastasa

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Breakfast Is Ready
(7: 45 in the morning)
to choose between a
hot breakfast ready on the table
and finishing another poem
i choose the breakfast
together with my wife
this poem can be suspended
in time
and become another unfinished
act of creation
by a man wanting to fill this
world with poems
after a while
when i have my fill and when
i make some nice conversations with my wife
and my dog beside the table
looking at me
for a piece of fried pork
when the sipping of coffee is over
when i finally wipe my
chin with the sky blue napkin
when i consider
eating as finally over
as promised
i will come back again
and finish this poem
and there is something
nice in this
act of creation
you feel it
it is warm like the hand of
a beautiful woman
it is as hot as ever
like this wanton desire
lovely,
as lovely as you love each letter
of the word
of your poetry
i am feeling it in the bone
of my soul
poem by Ric S. Bastasa

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10:29 P.M.
between us
are these glass window panes
dusty and
misty combined
i see a body
above it profuse light
it is facing me
as i write
my story and this
poem
i know there is no one
living in this house
all are in the monotony
of abandon
i am not afraid of you
another sculpted space
i call it
emptiness still
unaccepted
he calls himself
ghost
but i do not really mind
i too
have unfinished business
and by all means
i must finish it
now....
poem by Ric S. Bastasa

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If you loved me, you would rejoice
life to life with you
arm to arm and mind indulging
with the mind
what is it that bothers us?
a bird without wings?
a horse without hoofs?
a man without eyes?
an old woman without a
burial site? a coffin unfinished?
a poem unsigned?
unfinished business
defective structures like
house without pillars
trains without tracks
cocoons without leaves
words without meaning
a poem without a definite ending
a page without a margin
a dog without an ear
a fish not in school
there are sighs unsifted
love unrequited
And now I have told you this
before it happens....
poem by Ric S. Bastasa

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What Do We Do To Aldo Kraas?
i have poured
a bucket of cold water
to wake him up
so he can finish
his poems
that we love
to see
in full
whole
he didn't
he holds us in super suspense
our feet could have danced
all night
our hands could have touched
the world in so much
thrills and freshness
but he didn't
he caught us suspended
frozen and
almost dead to extinction
what do we do to Aldo
to finish the poems
we want to read?
i am afraid
hot waters cannot
make him finish
what ought to be
i am afraid no one
can
because Aldo is Aldo
and just like me
Ric is Ric
that is how it goes
without saying
let them be
let me be
the freedom to be
unfinished
the freedom to be
finished
and perhaps be praised
or just be scorned
poem by Ric S. Bastasa

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I Hear
It is mid night knock and I hear
Lots of pain in body and me silently bear
No use to raise pain voice to bother members
As they are watching my end coming near
I slight open eyes and watch half consciously
The prayers and hymns are heard continuously
They believer that some last words may make my end peaceful
They are sobbing and watching at me with tears full
I had been with them for decades
Now time has come to bade
It is painful saga and stark reality
Helplessness to feel with remorse and pity
No one may say bad words at the back
As many things will be at stake
Someone may be claiming property and fortune
Others may be worried for good days gone
I have love each and everyone
Out side too and not at home alone
I see its impact today as death bell rings
Prayer is on with tears and they all sing
What a bond to feel at the time of heavenly journey!
Nothing accompanies not even relatives, friends or money
Only good will and well wishes at the time of departure
Wishing rest in peace and making it sure
I am half sunk and repeatedly opening eyes
They all lower their heads and desperately try
To hear gentle words if I ever I tried to speak
Strengthen their belief and not make them weak
Yes, it is midnight knock
And I hear heavy foot steps and sound of clock
Both arms have been struck at right 12 o'clock
I am closing eyes as if life is running out of stock
poem by Hasmukh Amathalal

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Write Me
Aerosmith
Write Me
Well I've been away forever, suicide's crossin' my mind,
But I'll never never never never never get so far behind.
I said, the ways of the night are evil with eyes that love the day,
but I'll never never never never never get so far away.
I said write me, write me, write me.
I said write me, write me, write me.
Well there's nothin' I can see that'd ever make
me want to be without her she's good, she's good to me.
Said there's no way to explain the kind of feeling
that you get out in the rain she's good, she's good to me.
See this emptiness inside it makes me scream
it make me crawl out of my high, she's good, she's good to me.
I love her.
Write me a letter, write me a letter, write it today, I'm goin' away.
Well I've been away forever, suicide's crossin' my mind,
But I'll never never never never never get so far behind.
Well I've been so many places hidin' from the wind and the rain,
But you could write me a letter for to save me from a goin' insane.
I said write me, write, write, write me.
Write me, write, write, write me.
Write me, write, write, write.
I said write me, write, write, write me.
Write me, write, write, write me.
Don't write me baby.
song performed by by Aerosmith

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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In Truth I Like Aldo
i truth i like aldo
does this man exists?
that was the question
thrown by him to me
and he answered
such questions well
enough
he has a dimple
on his chin
grey curly hair
on his head
tall, not so dark,
smiling,
a not so big
tummy,
always with a coat
but without a tie
beside his
another older
friend
advocating
against
child abuse
at least,
that is the picture
he sent me once
nice man
on some
unfinished poems
that i love
to finish
so here we are
on this poetry
we love each
poem after poem
the next question
is
smartazz unloved
who loves us?
will you william?
shine on the siennes?
poem by Ric S. Bastasa

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A Poem To Change The World
I wish I could write a poem that would change the world
A world with barbwire fences
Try to cross and you get stuck
You get pinned and you can’t come back
Ya
If I could just write a poem that would take those barbwire fences down
I wish I could write a poem that would change the world
With spotlights that blind rather than show the way
You have to look away
With spots in your eyes you cannot see
Ya
If I could just write a poem that would turn those spot lights away
I wish I could write a poem that would change the world
Airplanes that get you there if you can pay the fair
If you’re poor, you will work hard but go no where
Those who fly, are they thankful to the sky
Ya
If I could just write a poem that would make this world fair
I wish I could write a poem that would change the world
What is worse is war
And it is over there, where we send our children
There is nothing here but fear
Ya
I wish I could write a poem that make that no more
How much longer will the birds and trees
have to put up with our dirty breeze
All the water in this world
someday none of it will be safe to drink
If I could just write a poem that would clean up this mess
poem by Roger Harkness

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Angels
Take this man to prison, the man heard herod say,
And then four squads of soldiers came and carried him away.
Chained up between two watchmen, peter tried to sleep,
But beyond the walls an endless prayer was lifting for his keep.
Then a light cut through the darkness of a lonely prison cell,
And the chains that bound the man of God just opened up and fell,
And running to his people before the break of day,
There was only one thing on his mind, only one thing to say:
Angels watching over me, every move I make,
Angels watching over me!
Angels watching over me, every step I take,
Angels watching over me!
God only knows the times my life was threatened just today.
A reckless car ran out of gas before it ran my way.
Near misses all around me, accidents unknown,
Though I never see with human eyes the hands that lead me home.
But I know theyre all around me all day and through the night.
When the enemy is closing in, I know sometimes they fight
To keep my fight from falling, Ill never turn away.
If youre asking whats protecting me then youre gonna hear me say:
Got his angels watching over me, every move I make,
Angles watching over me!
Angels watching over me, every step I take,
Angels watching over me....
Angels watching over me....
Angels watching over me.
Got his angels watching over me, every move I make,
Angels watching over me!
Angels watching over me, every step I take,
Angels watching over me!
Angels watching over me,
Angels watching over me,
Angels watching over me,
Angels watching over me!
Though I never see with human eyes the hands that lead me home....
song performed by by Amy Grant

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Why There's No Peace
Too many people are half asleep.
With one eye closed,
And the other that peeks.
When they are alone,
They hear a door that creaks.
And maybe to their feet,
They just might leap!
Where is that peace,
We've been praying to believe in?
And where do gossipers at night go?
The ones who claim to see,
Everything from their windows?
Too many people are half asleep.
With one eye closed,
And the other that peeks.
When they are alone,
They hear a door that creaks.
And maybe to their feet,
They just might leap!
Nobody's feeling safe behind doors anymore.
And those who snore loudly,
Are told they bore!
Where is that peace,
We've been praying to believe in?
Too many people are half asleep.
Where is that peace,
We've been praying to believe in?
Too many people are half asleep.
And where do gossipers at night go?
The ones who claim to see,
Everything from their windows?
Nobody's feeling safe behind doors anymore.
And those who snore loudly,
Are told they bore!
Too many people are half asleep.
And bored with each other,
That is why there's no peace!
Too many people are half asleep.
And bored with each other,
That is why there's no peace!
Too many people are half asleep.
Too many people are half asleep.
And bored with each other,
That is why there's no peace!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar

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Don't cry with eyes wide open
We have seen the power of the oceans
Don't cry with eyes wide open
Our loved ones have all been stolen
Don't cry with eyes wide open
Tsunamis and earthquakes
Buildings shake
Buildings break
And you forever weep with painful heartaches
Asking silently 'Does the earth make mistakes? '
Misery and unspeakable floods
The dead lay buried in pounds of mud
And the sadness in their eyes is not odd
Is this the great power of GOD?
Or is life another big fraud?
For those who have lost it all
Don't cry with eyes wide open
It takes time to recover from a great fall
Don't cry with eyes wide open
We have seen it all before
The brutality of nature is hardcore!
As the media make tragedy a newsbreak
We sit globally in our comfort zones
Watching the people of Japan in distress
As the nuclear episode evolves into a mess
My heart aches with eyes wide awake
People are out there hungry with cold bones
Don't cry with eyes wide open
Perhaps as the earth comes to its senses
We can wrap our tragedies in past tenses
Don't cry with eyes wide open
For there is always hope
Swimming around with waves of positive motions
Copyright 2011 - Sylvia Chidi
poem by Sylvia Chidi

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I Do Not Know Why I Should Have A Poem Today
I DO NOT KNOW WHY I SHOULD HAVE A POEM TODAY
I do not know why I should have a poem today
I don’t deserve it-
When the body aches the mind tends to evaporate
I am just trying to maintain my way
Until the great heat wave passes.
If all I experience is part of my poem
Then how can Poetry be anything special?
Where is the miraculous transformation
From the ordinary to the surprisingly good?
I don’t know why I should have a poem today
I write these lines
As if my every thought were sacred-
But the great heat of the day
And the aches in my arms as I write
Say
‘It will never be good enough
no matter how hard I try.’
poem by Shalom Freedman

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