The Camiguin Escapade....
on those nights in that island i was confronted with
configurations,
curves, strong lines, bold strokes,
opulence, complacency
dark corners, dead ends, walls, twisted paths,
roasted scents, too general for you to really specifically picture,
heat, hot springs, cool nights, bird calls, dewy leaves,
roots of tall ancient trees,
i disregarded memories, i am into creativity, into something new,
what i never had before, falls, ripples, floating drifting wood,
rivers,
i never make a call, and i never receive calls from you,
my mornings are stares, gazes into far seas,
there were some storms that no one ever notice
such is the story behind my escapade.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Related quotes
Restless Nights
Wished we ran and lived as one
In another world my little one
Where strange trees and dark rivers run
I told a dream to you
Now outside the streets of pain
And the childhood games we play
Have faded away
But my baby, she has restless nights
She has restless nights
My baby, she has restless nights
On late night movie screens
Young lovers look so sure
Lost in wide awake dreams
That they cant afford
Once I held you in my arms
On a bed of stone
Now we have grown (but darling)
Well my baby she has restless nights
She has restless nights
My baby she has restless nights
Wished we ran and lived as one
A different world my little one
Where strange trees and dark rivers run
I told a dream to you
Now outside the streets of pain
But here inside my heart
It all falls apart
But my baby, she has restless nights
She has restless nights
My baby, she has restless nights
But my baby, she has restless nights
She has restless nights
My baby, she has restless nights\
song performed by by Bruce Springsteen
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
When We Meet Again Sometime This Summer
i tell you, i do not like winters, and i do not wish
to go where winter lies. I am intolerant of anything
that freezes me, that thaws, that gives me frost,
that bites like an ant, that solidifies me like
refrigerator ice.
i like summers. Flowers blooming. Green grass
spreading. Butterflies in different colors in the garden.
Bees just enough for the buzz. I love trees. I love
rivers, and springs and creeks.
Bamboo trees beside the rocks beside the pebbles
beside the river. I like the songs of the rivers. Lots of rivers.
Gentle rains. Hush winds. Cool shades. Shadows of mountains.
When we meet again, i like it to be this summer.
Lots of sun. Warmth., Sweat. Perspirations. Palpitations
of the hearts of the young on summer time.
Under the cool shades of the trees on summer nights.
I always remember summer nights.Strong summer winds.
Flown hair. Drying pants and underwears. My legs exposed
Beside the brook. I like being naked. I like being on top of
everything.
With you, on you, by you, within you, in your mouth all over your face.
Oh summer breeze. See you. Feel you. Love you.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Reminiscing Those Carefree Days...
the days are coming and going
the coconut tree that you once planted at the back of the house
has become so tall
and fruitful
rising above the roof and the other trees
growing at you
neighbor's backyard
the nights are dark as usual but soon when you begin to look at those hind sides
carefully
you will notice a collage of stars
blinking
like city neon lights
a comet once passed this path but you were then asleep
preoccupied with the thoughts of
your past
those cliffs that you have not climbed ever
the deep seas that seem to warn you about some people
people in the past
drowning
do not fear
bright mornings are still here everyday bringing you a bouquet of red roses
and scents of coffee
and toasted
bread
just be patient
high noons are temporary
the ticking of the clocks shall soon fade away to the voices of your carefree days
once when you were a kid
playing under a heavy rain
with your best friend
on some games of
mud
a long, long time ago.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
The Moment I See Your Face
i can steal some more gazes
beside you
i will not be bored in this trip
sliding across the foamy seas
crossing longer bridges
hopping from one island to another
seeing old ancestral houses
made of hardwood
recalling the ormoc disasters
with thousands dead
floating bloating on the river
i see your face again
i have always seen them all over again
i am alive again
i should have been dead years ago
without you
i hold your hand
you look at me
there are no words
on these wanderings
these travels
of thoughts and cares
inside our hearts
the tourist guide speaks
'this is the house he made for her
the shrine and these walls
to protect her from harm'
we are holding each others arms
as we listen
i do not think of walls
neither will i in the future
build them for you
your face is beside mine
the camera clicks
and another picture is taken
now we shall go to another room
the tour guide speaks again
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
We Dont Live Here No More
Make believe your on a boat with no water around.
Picture yourself at a circus, without any clowns.
Pretend that youre on a highway, without any end.
Then empty the ashtray,
Sweep up the floor,
Put a lock on your door.
If somebody calls in the morning,
Just say we dont live here no more.
Draw me a picture of an island without any seas.
Show me a map of the whole world without boundaries.
Build me a home without windows or doors to go in.
Then empty the ashtray,
Sweep up the floor,
Put a lock on your door.
If somebody calls in the morning,
Just say we dont live here no more.
-----
Dream of a time when the tides ebbing now rise again.
Then you will know that to die is not really to end.
Living and dieing are both your most intimate friends.
So empty the ashtray,
Sweep up the floor,
Put a lock on your door.
If somebody calls in the morning,
Just say we dont live here no more.
If somebody calls in the morning,
Just say we dont live here no more.
song performed by by John Denver
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
Dark Nights
Dark nights, stars are burning billions of miles away, in the hollows of the black sky. That is how she feels all the time.
Dark nights, how will she navigate her way, find her way, when all she can see in the nothingness all around her.
Dark nights, she screams at the nothingness thats around her. she screams at the numbness inside her, the pains she cannot get away from, and the coldness that drowns her.
Dark nights, no one knows about the fights she fights alones, trapted inside her own self.
She is stuck in the darkness, the nothingness, and the numbness.
the dreadful dark nights she is comsumed by. she doesnt want no one's help. she wants to do this on her own.
dark nights, she is actually comfortable here. she is used to it here. she belongs here
at least for now.
Dark nights, it is her one place she is accepted. no one knows her, no one is there.
Dark nights, it is a place of her own. A place she created. no judgements.
The dark nights ask nothing of her, the dark nights has no expectations of her.
She owns the Dark nights.
poem by Ashley Dowdy
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Big Storm, The Rain Falls
The rain falls like leaves and snow.
It stutters and mutters
And bounces and flows.
The rain falls like a big black crow,
Flapping and cawing
And thrashing and crashing.
The rain falls like spades of earth
Tossed on the grave of summer mirth.
The rain falls like a magic spell:
Billions of droplets singing their songs.
The rain falls like a lover's kisses,
Wet on the flesh of the trembling earth.
The rain falls like a forest of time,
Shimmering seconds, liquid and cold.
The rain falls like an ancient story,
Trickling on roots, twisted and old.
poem by Norm Milstein
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Drifters
there is no motive here
it is just like flying not even for the love of air
i have no wish for wings
neither do i have a feather
i fly on the invisible wings of my thoughts
drifting for the sake of nothing but just drifting
because i am drifting and i do not stop it
it could be that it is locating a drift
a shore of the winds, an island of gusts,
it is following a river of memories
memories are drifters too
and so are all the rest of these hanging wishes
uncertainties like molecules making a room for
their unseen randomness, the chaos that we never see
because we are attuned to order
to the stillness of wood and panel
picture a bowl of fruits
the mind has painted.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Dark Nights
Dark nights, stars are burning billions of miles away, in the hollows of the black sky. That is how she feels all the time.
Dark nights, how will she navigate her way, find her way, when all she can see in the nothingness all around her.
Dark nights, she screams at the nothingness the around her. She screams at the numbness inside her, the pains she cannot get away from, and the coldness that drowns her.
Dark nights, no one knows about the fights she fights alones, trapped inside her own self.
She is stuck in the darkness, the nothingness, and the numbness.
The dreadful dark nights she is consumed by. She doesn’t want no one's help. she wants to do this on her own.
Dark nights, she is actually comfortable here. She is used to it here. she belongs here
at least for now.
Dark nights, it is her one place she is accepted. No one knows her, no one is there.
Dark nights, it is a place of her own. A place she created. No judgments.
The dark nights ask nothing of her, the dark night does not have any expectations of her.
She owns the Dark nights.
poem by Ashley Joyce Forbus
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Picture-Books in Winter
Summer fading, winter comes--
Frosty mornings, tingling thumbs,
Window robins, winter rooks,
And the picture story-books.
Water now is turned to stone
Nurse and I can walk upon;
Still we find the flowing brooks
In the picture story-books.
All the pretty things put by,
Wait upon the children's eye,
Sheep and shepherds, trees and crooks,
In the picture story-books.
We may see how all things are
Seas and cities, near and far,
And the flying fairies' looks,
In the picture story-books.
How am I to sing your praise,
Happy chimney-corner days,
Sitting safe in nursery nooks,
Reading picture story-books?
poem by Robert Louis Stevenson
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Shadows And Tall Trees
Back to the cold restless streets at night
I talk to myself about tomorrow night
Walls of white protest
A gravestone in name
Who is it now
It's always the same
Who is it now
Who calls me inside
Are the leaves on the trees
Just living disguise
I walk sweet rain tragicomedy
I'll walk home again
to the street melody
But I know, oh no
But I know, oh no
But I know...
Shadows and tall trees
Shadows and tall trees
Shadows and tall trees
Shadows and tall trees
Life through a window
Discoloured pain
Mrs. Brown's washing is always the same
I walk street rain tragicomedy
I'll walk home again
to the street melody
But I know, oh no
But I know, oh no
But I know...
(Out there)
Do you feel in me...
Anything redeeming
Any worthwhile feeling
Is love like a tightrope
Hanging from the ceiling
But I know, oh no
But I know, oh no
But I know...
Shadows and Tall Trees
song performed by by U2
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
I Wanna Dance With Somebody (Who Loves Me)
Clocks strikes upon the hour
And the sun begins to fade
Still enough time to figure out
How to chase my blues away
I've done alright up 'til now
It's the light of day that shows me how
And when the night falls loneliness calls
Chorus:
Oh! Wanna dance with somebody
I wanna feel the heat with somebody
Yeah! Wanna dance with somebody
With somebody who loves me
I've been in love and lost my senses
Spinning through the town
Soon or later the fever ends
And I wind up feeling down
I need a man who'll take a chance
On a love that burns hot enough to last
So when the night falls
My lonely heart calls
chorus
I need a man who'll take a chance
On a love that burns hot enough to last
So when the night falls
My lonely heart calls
chorus
song performed by by Whitney Houston from Whitney
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
Hundreds Of Tears
I stood in the warmth of the light
Chilled to the bone
Hundreds of faces in sight
Still I was alone
Door after door
And room after empty room
Ive stood here before
But under a different moon
In the longest days and the darkest nights
Down the longest road theres a presence of light
I hear a voice that calls me
Its loves name I call
In the end
Ive walked in and out of the fire
Between truth and lies
Now how many children watch
While one child crys
Ill tear down these walls
And watch while their souls are freed
Ill throw away pride
To drown in this endless sea
In the longest days and the darkest nights
Down the longest road theres a presence of light
I hear a voice that calls me
Its loves name I call
In the end
Hundreds of tears on the water
Mercy come rain down on me
In the longest days and the darkest nights
Down the longest road theres a presence of light
In the longest days and the darkest nights
Down the longest road theres a presence of light
I hear a voice that calls me
Its loves name I call
In the end
Hundreds of tears on the water
Mercy come rain down on me
Hundreds of tears on the water
Mercy come rain down on me
Hundreds of tears on the water
Mercy come rain down on me
Hundreds of tears on the water
Mercy come rain down on me
song performed by by Sheryl Crow
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
Our Pilots
You that run the reddened ditch among the drifted leaves
May set the pace to conquerors and guide the sons of kings!
You that on your stealthy feet go through the wood like thieves
May lead your troop, a hundred horse, when once a holloa rings!
You that, if you lay in death, the poorest churl would pass-
You whose brush and mask and pads there's not a tramp would take-
Can set the pride of England riding jealous on the grass
And captains, earls, and countesses contending in your wake!
You're vermin to a vast of folk, but glory to a few.
What is it in your creeping stride that calls and calls and calls?
What is it, when the racing pack runs on from scent to view,
That rallies us to ride our best - dead straight - and chance the falls?
poem by William Henry Ogilvie
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Absolutely Bills Mood
I was born in a lighthouse, my mother was the sea
I crawled to school each morning, when it occured to me
That lifes just a mood ring were not allowed to see
And this is what it said to me
My room is comfortably small
With rubber lining the walls
And theres someone always calling my name
He calls when Im alone
And he calls when Im not home
And he calls when Im stuck out in the rain
Im insane
Im insane
Im insane
Im insane
Now listen all you swingers, dont you try to tag along
I know monkey see, but monkeys dead, for you it would be wrong
Put a dime in my jukebox, youll only hear this song
And it wont be fun for long
Because my room is comfortably small
With rubber lining the walls
And theres someone always calling my name
He calls when Im alone
And he calls when Im not home
And he calls when Im stuck out in the rain
Im insane
Im insane
Im insane
Im insane
Thank you
Thank you
My room is comfortably small
With rubber lining the walls
And theres someone always calling my name
He calls when Im alone
And he calls when Im not home
And he calls when Im stuck out in the rain
Im insane
Im insane
Im insane
Im insane
song performed by by They Might Be Giants
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
Paint My Life
let me at least choose
the colors
red for love
blue for my sorrow
gray for my confusions
do not draw me in
bold strokes
for i was never brave
do give me crooked
lines
minimize the straight ones
my eyes are two moons
my feet are trees without roots
my face the sun
its rays my hair
my whole body
a driftwood
my moles be islands
my hands are branches
without leaves
praying to the sky
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Fall is here!
The days are shorter
The suns rays are dimer
The wind starts to feel
Closer to winter
Trees leaves turn colors
Birds fly to where its warmer
The animals that can't fly
Prepare for the cold weather
Nights come quicker
The chilly breezes
Make you wear clothes
That are thicker
Trees leaves start to fall
At night the wind
Start to whisper
The season is changing
Time has fell back
This means winter is gaining
Nature is most precious
When the weather is changing
Hot long days and warmer nights
Traded for cool short days and chilly nights
Summer is over and fall is here!
poem by Jaycee Wilkerson
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
A Frame
a square a rectangle four corners
of wood or steel or just bold strokes
to make a corner a frame to put
my face in, and there i am safe
i am enclosed i am situated i am
myself in a certain context in a
certain world. There i am found.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Your Dance My Love
you are so beautiful when you start to dance
when all the leaves fall off from your arms
naked, i have seen everything that your earth has to offer:
your hills and trees and forest, your creeks and rivers,
your clouds and seas, your grass and flowers
i have seen them all and touched them
your hills i have climbed
your trees with sweet fruits
i have gathered them all
and bit and sucked and savored each sap and juice
its flesh and fiber
i have slept on your grass
i have smelled your flowers
i have gazed on your clouds and have taken the dive
on your seas
i have sailed on your rivers
i have bathed on your creeks
i have done everything for you to please you my love
yet why are your eyes so sad tonight?
you are like a moon fading in the dark
you are like the song of a bird dissolving in distance.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Tide Rises, the Tide Falls, The
The tide rises, the tide falls,
The twilight darkens, the curlew calls;
Along the sea-sands damp and brown
The traveler hastens toward the town,
And the tide rises, the tide falls.
Darkness settles on roofs and walls,
But the sea, the sea in darkness calls;
The little waves, with their soft, white hands
Efface the footprints in the sands,
And the tide rises, the tide falls.
The morning breaks; the steeds in their stalls
Stamp and neigh, as the hostler calls;
The day returns, but nevermore
Returns the traveler to the shore.
And the tide rises, the tide falls.
poem by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!