The Clouds Too Have A Way Of Looking
the clouds too have a way of looking
at themselves on the pond
its mirror
for a while they stay there and admire
their puffs and cottons
the reeds standing by the murky water
take pride
an island of grass stays beside them
then the clouds slowly move away
nobody owns them
and they do not touch anybody too.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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The Clouds Of Narcissus
the clouds of narcissus pass by today
along a clear pond by the side of a rice paddy
they stop to get a good glimpse of their faces and bodies
cottony white, shades of blue, pluffy, and soft
they stop and take a longer gaze, admiring every
beauty of its hands and fingers, a longer time
an island of grass some reeds and dry leaves
get curious about what is happening why the clouds
stop and made a longer stare over the clear reflection
of their bodies on the little pond. They talk. They are curious.
and then the clouds finally get done with what is usual.
they left. Slowly sail away from what they are seeing lovingly.
Nothing happens since then. They own no one.No one owns them.
They leave. They do not know how to love. Neither are they loved.
They are gone. The island of grass is silent. The reeds hush.
And the pond has become murky.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Clouds And Moods
Puffs of clouds covered the sky
Like my thoughts of you and I.
At times I could see and think clearly
But my mind would get weary.
Those puffs of clouds would take control
And my heart it would hold.
It’s amazing how it could be
That the clouds are like you and me.
When the clouds get dark and grey
We become defensive in every way
And the fights come into play.
And when clouds are a misty white
I want to make love to you day and night.
And when the clouds look like ripples in the sand
I want to squeeze you and hold your hand.
And when the clouds completely cover the sky
I thank god you’re by my side.
poem by Louis Rams
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The Simplicity Of Nature
reeds on the side of the lake
ripples of water
sand over mud
a green island on the other side
shades of the horizon
blue and darker sometimes
blue skies and fluffy white clouds
how this view sings in harmony
with the heart of a man
sitting in solitude under a tree
on the grass
nature is indeed simpler than man
more beautiful even without him
but who shall know? when man becomes
extinct, who shall know?
when man is finally excluded, who shall tell?
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Like A Cloud
like a cloud
i change shapes
cumulus, nimbus,
feathers and cottons
i mirror myself on a pond
and begin to like myself
the reeds look at me
with disdain
and the rocks there
speak ill of me
no matter how beautiful
i am
be it the shape of David
or of Narcissus
always everything i am
what i have
they claim them to be owned by the wind
they say the wind makes me
the wind unmakes me and i am left
with nothing
but just the illusion of a cloud
doubt, i now have them and i am lost
in an island without a name
like a cloud i wander
higher than the cliffs and friend of the sun
the wind claims me and still i am nothing
there is no use for all these
i have loved the wind and learned to live with its daft
i love the wind and its song
its distance and its intimacies with my hues
but with the wind i am nothing i have none
all of them disbelieved my right to be myself
i am wandering and wishing upon the stones
i fall
i am rain i am the water in the gutter
i flow
searching for the place where i can be myself
distinct like a mole on a cheek
there is no wind to claim my shape and color
sad, i am still nothing, as empty as a hand opening
pleading for space and air, i am still nothing.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Jealous Clouds
The dew of love settles on the blades of grass
In the marshes, the green frogs sleep
While the crickets play their wings like violins
For the hearts of geese to move their feet
And the water streams in content
While the clouds look down on earth
In jealousy clouds want to play
With and on earth's beauty..
They desire the touch of love by the sharp blades of grass
They want to feel the warmth of the frogs sleepy feet on their laps
And listen to the music of the cricket's wings
while they chase the running geese
Jealous clouds want to drink and splash in the azure streams of content
And on earth live in mirth, with the rest of nature's creatures!
O the Jealous Clouds—They can't stuck in heaven they are!
In jealousy they turn gray with sadness and weep
And hide the sun when mad at earth and its light they keep
The jealous clouds roar in thunder to scare our hearts
And tempt us with their purity, dressed in white, soft raiment
The jealous clouds piqued turn vermillion and blush
In admiration of our jealous dreamy eyes…
O jealous clouds how are you jealous of we?
poem by Kevin Michael Murphy
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Pond World
if this world is only a pond
of crystal clear water
the mirror of cotton clouds
the intimate half of the sky
if this world is only a matter
of the moon sitting softly
on the comfort of the marshes
or some whispers of the reeds
and an offering of beauty
with the petals of the pink lotus
and leaves opening to space
embracing everything in a universe
i would not have walked away
and looked for my star
i would not have followed what
the fingers of the sun hinted
i would not have believed
that somewhere at the foot
of a rainbow lies my pot of gold
i would not have succumbed to
the misery of the worms the
tragedy of the broken wings
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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The Eastern Swamphen
Invertebrates and slugs and such they eat
The water birds with big and ugly feet
You know them by their wild and distinct cry
And their legs are always dangling as they fly.
Related to but larger than moorhen
And with coots, rails and crakes they too share common kin
In or near water they are known to stay
And from lake or pond they won't be far away.
Midst water reeds they build their nests of reeds and grass
No work of art just an untidy mass
And three up to five eggs the female lay
With brown spots through the lightish buff to gray.
With purple under black and red on face
And flicking tails familiar to their race
Birds when once seen you never could mistake
They roost in ponds or reedy swamp or lake.
If danger threaten to water they retreat
The water birds with big and ugly feet
And you know them by their wild and distinct cry
And their legs are always dangling as they fly.
poem by Francis Duggan
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I Can’t Touch The Sun
No I can't touch the clouds for you I've never reached the sun for you
I've never done the things that you need done for you
I've stretched as high as I can reach I guess I'm not the one for you
Cause I can't touch the clouds or reach the sun for you
No I can't reach the clouds or touch the sun
No I can't turn back time for you and make you sweet sixteen again
I can't turn your barren fields to green again
And I can't sit around and talk of how might have been again
No I can't turn back time and make you young again
I can't turn back time and make you young
I can't look inside your mind and see the things you're hopin' for
I can't help you chase the dream you're gropin' for
I know your heart is open wide but I don't know who it's open for
Cause I can't know your mind or chase your dreams for you
Mhm I can't chase your dreams or know your mind
So say goodbye and don't look back I've had some happy days with you
I'm sorry but I can't be the one who stays with you
And if they ask about me you can say I was the one with you
Who never touched the clouds or reached the sun with you
I can't touch the clouds or reach the sun for you
I can't touch the clouds or reach the sun
poem by Sheldon Allan Silverstein
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How To Deal With A Very Beautiful Disciple
she comes like a princess from the
a castle high up there on those blue clouds
descending from the sun
down to the mountains
and the rivers
and to this
pond
i am the grass, and she wants to lie down with me
so i can teach her about what, i ask, about poetry she says,
no there is no poetry with me for
i am the grass, and you signal the wind so you may leave at once
and be back to the arms of the heavens
but i think a while and change my mind for i am the grass
and i am a teacher of all mankind, those who want to die and be
covered with my hands, and those who want to stay and be
with my greeness, my softness and i in humility whispers to her
my princess, stay with me for a while, lie with me, and sleep with me
under the moon, the darkness of the night shall be our blanket,
my thick leaves of grass, your pillow,
i am the grass, i may not teach you what poetry is,
what i have is to spread
love and togetherness, and intimacy that i have with the soil
my secrets with the worms, my eternity
with what death has concealed from the eyes of your world.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Water so Deep and Profound
Water so sinuous and devious,
And as mystifying as you.
Water is always hiding its true self,
Never in one form.
Water can be the shimmer,
Reflecting off the light of the pond,
Making the pond seem magnificent.
Water can be the rushing sound,
As it escapes the secretive pond,
And runes down into the vast ocean,
Seeking adventure and unfound dreams.
Water can be the feeling of calmness,
As it sits there, overlooking the pond,
With wonder and seeing how it made it what it is.
Water so supple and wondrous,
The pond is born from the water.
Water so deep and profound,
Just like you,
The pond so incomplete without water,
Just like your family.
poem by Music Galore
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Those Who Move Clouds
The throwing of your mental clothes wasnt ever your intention
The malady within your heart has no cure and prevention
There are those who move clouds
Those who move clouds
Heard it murmured in a far off crowd
Those who move clouds
I wish that I could offer you a chance to change direction
But you know that pathways must be followed to near destruction
There are those who move clouds
Those who move clouds
Heard it murmured in a far off crowd
Those who move clouds
There are those who will patronise and compromise your position
They cant feel the forceful hand of
Predetermined destination
There are those who move clouds
Those who move clouds
Heard it murmured in a far off crowd
Those who move clouds
I can feel the forceful hand
And it wont let me change direction no
And theres this hunger inside of me
And it wont and it wont no it wont stop its aching
And I can feel it inside of my head the forceful hand
And it wont let me change direction
And theres this hunger and it wont let me
And it wont let me stop and it wont let me stop this aching no
song performed by by Howard Jones
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Holy Blunder
Clouds in the skies; clouds in the skies; clouds, clouds
Clouds in the skies; some clustering; some cluttering
Some straying; some strewing; all in one yonder
Like free floating vices and flouted virtues
Amongst myriad murky Stygean stratus
One cumulus, shining bright and smiling white
Like a lucky rich man amongst fated poor
Leering, jeering, raving in sway and sashey
“My one misdirected beam made him gleam”
Bemused waning God Sun, “how this happened
Of one breed are all clouds; running in them same
Vapour-blood; façade is due to my light shed”
“Oh! Idiotic white clouds! This is not good!
Don’t swagger because of my one holy blunder
On the day apocalyptic winds wiggle
Every cloud has to melt down into drizzle”
poem by Sathya Narayana
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With A Vengeance
Now i'm back with a vengeance
Didn't want to stay - to stay away from you
No illegal fun - you had me hypnotised
Cheap and on the run - a bad reputation
Now the time has come - to take the blame away
To fly the clouds so high
And touch the sun
Into a desperate sky
And the nightmare's begun
Now i'm back with a vengeance
I am back with a vengeance
Never been my style - to hide away from you
Like a wayward child - you tried to paralyse
And to cage my heart - bad recommendation
Now the fear has gone - there's zero left to say
To fly the clouds so high
And touch the sun
Into a desperate sky
Wait for the terror to come
Now i'm back with a vengeance
I am back with a vengeance
To fly the clouds so high
And touch the sun
Into a desperate sky
So the horror has won
Now i'm back with a vengeance
I am back with a vengeance, ...
song performed by by U. D. O.
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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In the island of my senses
In the island of my senses
You have come as a lover.
Last night you touch
With your fingers my
Softness and I wriggled
In such sweetness.
I touch you too with the
Sands of my shores
You do not really know
That I am here
In my flowers and
Shells. I whistle and
Sigh in my winds of
My islands. You do
Not know that I am
Here. In the island
Of my senses I lay
With desire concealed.
As I kiss you in your
Sleep, I am not even
A part of your dream.
In the island of my
Senses, you are
The boat that leaves
Me tomorrow. I am
Staying in pain.
My clouds bleed
In scarlet sunset.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Draw Me A Map Of This World
lady draw me a map of
this world
and tell me where the
mountains and
rivers are
draw me an island
of soft grass
where a man and
woman can rest
and make love
draw me a pond
a larger one where
the orange goldfish
are fat where the
swans can swim
draw me some
clouds where the
birds can fly
make them real
please
i need all of them
for me
to be real today.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Tell Me What Is It
tell me what is it that stays on the water
the whole night and does not get wet
it is the moon reflected on the clear pond.
nothing is broken.
or consumed. i am seeing it well
and tomorrow i shall see the rising sun
completely in one dew
of the grass.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Clouds Across The Moon
Standing here on the brighter side of life,
I realize missing out on the things I loved.
Walking down the shady lovers lanes
as the clouds moved across the moon.
I’ve seen the glamour and glitz of life
and long for the simple things of yesterday
when we walked arm in arm together
as the clouds moved across the moon.
Tomorrow is another day in the spotlight
regretting for another time again
of giving up all those yesterdays
as the clouds moved across the moon.
It’s hard to try not to regret
all the things you rushed forward to
even though at the time it meant losing you
as the clouds moved across the moon.
One day I may return home again,
when my dreams have turned to dust
then I may walk again with you
as the clouds move across the moon.
6 November 2011
poem by David Harris
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In The Field Of Absence
in the field of absence
i may find you
as a flower
or a a worm
of someone else
as i stare
at the clouds
asking who owns you
and who owns me
finally i nod
at all the leaves
meeting me
someone owns
you
the western wind
no one owns me
as i decide
to fly east
where the wind
is as soft as silk
i have grown
a pair of wings
you ask
what for?
i am flying away.
you ask
why?
i have no answer
but it is this
why that moves
everything
inside me
i ask too: why?
it keeps on moving
it is silent
it is bitter
it is as deep as a
black river.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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The World As Idea Is The Perfect Mirror Of Your Wisdom
At silent midnight
A continual frost of wisdom
Beyond the clouds
More joy in heaven
Girl on a bridge
With tears in her eyes
In the mirror of water
Slow fires
In high grass
She kneels
(With Benedicte Gauthier) .
poem by Nicolas Grenier
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See Me In The Mirror
Do you see me standing here,
locked up inside your mirror?
I watch you every day,
standing here inside your mirror.
Why can’t you look over here
at your mirror and see me floating,
waiting to be heard.
I talk to you for hours but
you never hear.
Your mirror keeps me bound
here, unable to touch, stuck in here.
I see you look around nervously,
as if you can sense my presence in here.
I shout, I stomp, I scream and yell.
You turn, quickly, to your mirror.
Your eyes widen with fear.
No! , I yell as you turn away.
Please don’t leave me alone in here.
It’s cold and lonely, please speak to me.
Your shoulders stiffen and
then relax outside your mirror.
Finally, you look at me and speak.
You ask me why I’m here and stay.
I tell you I don’t know.
I’m just stuck standing in your mirror.
You poor thing, you say, feeling sorry for me.
It’s alright, I say, you’ve kept me company all day.
You come closer and stand nearer to your mirror.
You raise your hand to the glass, and I raise mine.
A vibrant burst of beautiful light emanates from your mirror.
Real. I feel your hand touch mine.
I feel the roughness and the smoothness.
Free at last, I am finally real, to come and go as I feel.
To touch and be touched, and to give and take.
I kiss your cheeks and your mouth.
Thank you, I tell your shocked face.
Your rough hands cup my shocked face.
You return my hesitant kisses with your assured ones.
You are mine, girl in the mirror, you tell me.
I am yours, boy outside the mirror, I tell you.
Finally we are together.
poem by Brooke Harris
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