The Cage....
one can see
an unaffected wire
cage on days when
the lovebirds
are set free
it has no wings
only squares and squares
of the usual
indifference
whether the door is open
or close
what does it matter to it?
an instrument will always be
the usual instrument
there is no imagination
no dream
not even the temporary bliss
of an illusion
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Ennui (whatever)
there are four corners of this room
(as usual, us usual,
we are here again, both
on a togetherness
since the early days of our
union)
i want to go away, remember the flight
of the little bird, away from its mother's nest?
but i can't, your tears are holding me
like a mother,
and so how can a son get away?
how can a lover go away and be stripped
from its beloved?
the vinyl floors are dusty
the curtains unwashed for weeks
the door creaks like a man complaining
for its usual work
to close and open
to open and close
the door has always been closed in here
there is no exit
but i shall not scream, that is too much for this
harrowing experience
there is no tv, no ref, just the sound of an AM/FM radio
that i bought from a cheap department store
i hold your hands
that is enough for me now.
i stare at the ceiling, and then i get so weary and i close my eyes
asking shelter
in the colored world of dreams.
are you happy now?
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Our Bird In Your Cage
we have this bird
we both own it and love it and care for it
our bird
and you have this cage
that you only own
golden, new and strong and as you say it
so reliable
that when our bird is in that cage
it will be safe
and cannot escape
we feed this bird together
and give it water and birdseeds
and a place of twigs and swing
where the bird can play
and perch upon
like it is on a tree
days and years
we keep this bird in your cage
and we see it is dying
and wanting to be free
yet you say, this sickness is just temporary
time heals what has wounded it
and shall forget the power of its wings
days and more years
we keep this bird in your cage
and i have not listened at all
to the sad song of that bird
her waning chirps
her weakened wings
her way of losing hold to the dreams of its wings
today we see this bird is dead
but you have no sadness at all
you say, you will buy another bird
again to be kept in your cage
i could have told you
i am the bird in your cage and i too have forgotten the power of
my wings
i could have told you, i have long died
and have forgotten what freedom is, what love is, what i am
in the first place. How can i ever tell you?
you are my cage.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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There At The Cave Door Of The Old Church
there at the cave door of the old church
you shall enter
move farther. move some more until you reach
the dead end corner
where the windows are little squares
lighted by the small fingers of the sun
shining all day
find our some truths of squares
lights and shadows of the past of this old church
on its window and door
have you gone to the old church in Baclayon?
have you seen this old door and window?
tell me if it is true that there are no more choices
in your life.
what they are saying is not really true.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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But then there's a moment like tonight, a profound and transcendent experience, the feeling as if a door has opened, and it's all because of that instrument, that incredible, magical instrument.
quote by Andrew Schneider
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Into Another Reality
after the usual lengthy
lecture in the university
the usual hour after
something like 8: 45
on such usual evenings
i take the usual drive
from the city to my
urban homesomething like
fifteen kilometers alone
but this
time it will be different
i'll have the loud sounds
of some Queen songs on the DVD
and I'll join singing with them like
I'm going slightly mad
I was born to love you &
I wanna break free
and to All Fat Bottomed Girls
this is your Good Old-fashioned Lover Boy
Let's Get Down Make Love
Headlong
Heaven to Everyone
In the Lap of the Gods...
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Knowing Nothing
Knowing nothing surrounds us
We object to lotion and pain
Whistling is the option
Beautiful couples marry late
With knowledge all-secret
Far poorer than usual
Appearances matter when they deafen
The crowd of the striders
Of faith
My late hours sting them
For my marching is sound
And the waves of the instrument fail
poem by Naveed Akram
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Interested
Your favorite food
What you like to do
Your favorite color
or any other
The thing on your mind
That you like to share
Cause I can stay here
And listen to every word
Because I'm interested
Can I be an instrument
For changing your life
Is that all right?
Because I'm interested
I'd rather be with you instead
Than anyone else
Cause I'm interested in your middle name
Now don't be ashamed, Naw
It's between me and you
Everything you do
Let your guard down
Because there's a new girl in town
gonna turn it around
I hope that you are down
Because I'm interested
Can I be your instrument
In changing your life
Is that allright?
Because I'm interested
I'd rather be with you instead
of anyone else
I'm wide open
No more secrets
No lie
Don't wanna live like a fool
But I will
For you
So I'll beg
I'll scream
I'll call
I'll write
If that's what it takes for you to be in my life
Because I'm interested
And I'll be an instrument
In changing your life
Is that all right?
Because I'm interested
And I rather be with you instead
Of anyone else
Oh No
Because I'm interested
And I'll be an instrument
In changing your life
Is that all right?
Because I'm interested
And I rather be with you instead
Of anyone else (fade)
song performed by by India Arie
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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As Usual
The sun was shining…
The breeze was blowing
As usual
The day was dawning
The dusk was falling…
As usual
The people were brisking
The people were frisking
As usual
You died.
My heart was grieving.
It was Durga Puja.
They were celebrating
As usual
(Dedicated to Steve Jobs. I miss him…)
poem by Aparna Chatterjee
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And New York is the most beautiful city in the world? It is not far from it. No urban night is like the night there... Squares after squares of flame, set up and cut into the aether. Here is our poetry, for we have pulled down the stars to our will.
quote by Ezra Pound
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Lines and Squares
Whenever I walk in a London street,
I'm ever so careful to watch my feet;
And I keep in the squares,
And the masses of bears,
Who wait at the corners all ready to eat
The sillies who tread on the lines of the street
Go back to their lairs,
And I say to them, "Bears,
Just look how I'm walking in all the squares!"
And the little bears growl to each other, "He's mine,
As soon as he's silly and steps on a line."
And some of the bigger bears try to pretend
That they came round the corner to look for a friend;
And they try to pretend that nobody cares
Whether you walk on the lines or squares.
But only the sillies believe their talk;
It's ever so portant how you walk.
And it's ever so jolly to call out, "Bears,
Just watch me walking in all the squares!"
poem by Alan Alexander Milne
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Hopscotch
Hopscotch
In a train going back home
A thousand scenes hurtling back
Those smug village lanes
So much missed
My doggie, Childhood
Friends and the hopscotch game
Those tiny legs
Tottering and
Picking up stone
From hastily drawn squares
Three hearts and six squares
Our childhood cheers!
Time stole the scenes
Yet they live on
Yes, at the back of our mind
Three hearts, three stones
And six drawn squares!
poem by John Tiong Chunghoo
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The thing is, if you control the Senate meetings, you control the gavel. And the gavel is a very important instrument... an instrument of power. An instrument that establishes the agenda.
quote by Dan Quayle
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Not So Usual
This is the most unusual story, of a most unusual girl
she's the paint in my picture, of a most unusual world
she can crawl out the frame while shes hanging on the wall
and shes calling my name
shes not so usual, wo
shes most unusual
shes not so usual
shes so unusual
shes mostly a ghost, the way she watches over me
she complains when I smoke, but then you do the same to me
shes controlling my brain activity, knowing when i go to sleep
she'll catch you when I'm falling hard
shes so unusual
shes not so usual
shes not so usual
shes so unusual
shes not so hooked on the drugs like I thought that she was
and never sucking on the lime, and hardly sipping on the wine
and dispite of her bipolar rollercoastering
I think I can trust, she'll keep me singing differently
and its fine cause shes with me now, most all of the time
trying to saving my life, thinking none of her own
and always kissing me goodnight when i just need to be alone
shes so sweet, so discrete, shes exactly what I need
not even make believe
shes not so usual
so unusual
shes not so usual
so unusual
not so usual, and not to practical either
but shes not so mystical, but not to magical either
but shes not so outta control, and not so used to the flow
shes not so usual
nah, shes a natural
ohhh, shes not so usual
shes most unusual
shes so unusual
shes so unusual
shes gonna use me ohhh
shes not so u...
shes not so u...
not so u...
not so....
song performed by by Jason Mraz
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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So Unusual (Live @ Java Joes - 06.27.02)
This is the most unusual story, of a most unusual girl
she stood painting my picture, of a most unusual world
she can crawl out of frame while shes hanging on the wall
and shes calling my name
shes not so usual
shes most unusual
shes not so usual
shes so unusual
shes mostly a ghost, the way she watches over me
she complains when i smoke, but then you do the same to me
shes controlling my brain activity, knowing when i go to sleep
she'll catch you when I'm falling hard
shes so unusual
shes not so usual
shes not so usual
shes so unusual
shes not so hooked on the drugs like i thought she was
and never sucking on the lime, and hardly sipping on the wine
and dispite of her biopolar rollercoastering
i think i can try, she'll keep me singing differently
and its fine cause shes with me now, most all of the time
trying to saving the light, thinking not of her own
and always kissing me goodnight when i just need to be alone
shes so sweet, so discrete, shes exactly what i need
not even make believe
shes not so usual
so unusual
shes not so usual
so unusual
not so usual, and not to practical either
but shes not so mystical, but not to magical either
but shes not so outta control, and not so used to the flow
shes not so usual
nah, shes a natural
ohhh, shes not so usual
shes most unusual
shes so unusual
shes so unusual
shes gonna use me ohhh
shes not so u...
shes not so u...
not so u...
not so....
song performed by by Jason Mraz
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The House With Many Doors
the house i love is a house
with many doors
the usual house you have
a front door and the back door
when one enters and there is nothing
to hide, one simply takes the back door
and be gone to the woods,
i can be imaginative at times
one door must open to the earth
another door must open to
the sky
and now, i must find a way
how to grow wings
or if destiny is too cruel
i must grow sharper claws
for digging the rocks of this
earth
now you must know that i have
many choices
up or
down.....
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Open Pages
there is no use hiding
the book of my life
i leave all the pages open
for you to read
and perhaps learn
from who i am and
what i have become
from those usual regrets
that always come late
as usual....
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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New York
New York, New York
A city that breathes endlessly
Dollars are spent carelessly
New York, New York
A city of squares and blocks
And the Stars roll and rock
While tourist flock
Like sheep cornered in squares
Entertainment, clubs and theatres
Is all that seems to matter
Twenty four seven
Alive in heaven
New York
A taxi takes you round and round the blocks
I end up in Madison Square
Where I started out twenty minutes before
But who cares?
This is New York
Every where there are open doors
New York, New York
A city that never sleeps
Everywhere you must leave a tip
But this city is worth the trip
New York, New York
A city of numbers and avenues
And elongated queues
It is true
I see now, I know now
About what they say about New York!
poem by Sylvia Chidi
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Fighting With Usual Ones
Usual cravings, as usual,
Come to me in plural.
For not enough defense,
For over offensive bad,
Shall I lose this pretty math?
Nothing I hate more than usual ones.
Like November that needs only December
To end one year,
Shall I give up my intense desire?
Together with usual theory,
To get the pass-mark solitary,
Should I sit this exam blowzy?
If there were a right map of life,
I would avoid those with unusual might.
But now, by riding a horse neither male nor female,
Shall I keep acting as a character stray?
I don't wanna be a king in usual custom paragon.
I don't wanna ascend already used throne.
If your heart is not new,
If your love is blue,
You will fail my interview.
Let my loner life live along
Instead of being in usual crowd.
My heart wishes unusual heartbeat sound.
poem by Aung Si Myanmar
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Instrument
I'm nothing
Except an instrument
It is you to use me
As you like
The lose is yours
The gain is yours
You are my creator
You are my sustainer
You are my destroyer
I'm nothing
You do whatever you like
I'm just an instrument
Use me as you like.
poem by Gajanan Mishra
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The cello is such a melancholy instrument, such an isolated, miserable instrument.
quote by Ritchie Blackmore
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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