The Couple...
she is weaving
she has an intricate design inside her mind
and for now
i do not see it
she is secretive and
does not want to be asked
just like me
in my own privacy
i am also weaving
stories of my own
and the plot is complicated
in the manner of
whodunnit.
we are the weavers
inside this room and it is not
so well lighted by the
moon
we seldom discuss
what is missing
we decide not to talk about
what mess we are in
tomorrow morning
we shall weave again
under the heat of the sun
we are never burned
never charred
tonight we shall be in this room
again
we shall weave again
the designs in our minds
our fingers entwine
on matters sanguine.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Related quotes
Indian Weavers
WEAVERS, weaving at break of day,
Why do you weave a garment so gay? . . .
Blue as the wing of a halcyon wild,
We weave the robes of a new-born child.
Weavers, weaving at fall of night,
Why do you weave a garment so bright? . . .
Like the plumes of a peacock, purple and green,
We weave the marriage-veils of a queen.
Weavers, weaving solemn and still,
What do you weave in the moonlight chill? . . .
White as a feather and white as a cloud,
We weave a dead man's funeral shroud.
poem by Sarojini Naidu
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Weave In, Weave In, My Hardy Life
WEAVE in! weave in, my hardy life!
Weave yet a soldier strong and full, for great campaigns to come;
Weave in red blood! weave sinews in, like ropes! the senses, sight
weave in!
Weave lasting sure! weave day and night the weft, the warp, incessant
weave! tire not!
(We know not what the use, O life! nor know the aim, the end--nor
really aught we know;
But know the work, the need goes on, and shall go on--the death-
envelop'd march of peace as well as war goes on;)
For great campaigns of peace the same, the wiry threads to weave;
We know not why or what, yet weave, forever weave.
poem by Walt Whitman
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Jane O'Grady
Grey old lady, sat by the sea
With her nimble fingers, weaving,
Jane O’Grady, seventy three
In the world that she was leaving.
Hummed sweet honey from virgin lips
In the way of the wind, sad-sighing,
Carried the song from her fingertips
To the day that she lay dying.
Shuttle sang in the early breeze
To the tune of life’s sweet sorrow:
“God, I’m weary of weaving love,
But I’ll not be here tomorrow.”
Grey old lady, worked with a will
On the shawl of life’s sweet pattern,
Fingers stilled in the dawning chill
As the world turned once too often.
Nevermore will she weave the love
That we borrowed, all unknowing,
Only the rags of the hand-me-downs
With the grey wind blowing.
24 November 1974
poem by David Lewis Paget
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Inside That Room
inside that room
clutters of old things
a conglomeration of dusts
silent stones
broken wedges
blunt shapes and sharp edges
inside that room
that silence we both shared
isolated moans
tongues lingering
inside that room
our memories
now the door is closed.
inside that room
the noise of insistence
the clap of a disaster
we disown
inside that room
the impregnation of tough thoughts
with soft laces
of ductile memories
inside that room
oh! there is no
us anymore.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Time Passes
Time is passing while I am waiting
For true life to have some meaning-
Time is passing and I blindly
Count to ten upon my fingers-
Not knowing and not even able to distinguish
What is real from what is not?
One, two, three and the voices inside me won't stop commanding-
Four, five and six-
All I see are snakes within the bleakness and confinement of this room-
Seven, eight, and nine, and even through this dim light I believe I am being watched-
I count aloud to ten upon my fingers and
Time is passing and all that is all that I hear for the moment-
All that I see, I reach out to touch or to open my eyes to see-
Time has passed and everything is silent, without a trace of
Ever being near and once more I count,
Starting at seven, eight and then nine- watching the second hand on the wall clock and
Ten? Ten more hours to be locked inside of this empty, room where
The walls are barren and I am alone with my thoughts-
Time is passing and I would be running away, but there is nowhere to run to, except to
Places inside of my mind and one, two three and all that I see is
The walls of this empty room and a locked door-
I could count from one to a thousand and
Inside of this room I would remain- I could count to one million and
I would die before I even got there- so I count from one to three over and over because
Everything is seemingly easier when I am lost inside the world of my fantasies and
I realize now what is not truly real and threatening shall never harm me and
Time is passing and as I count, I am blissfully losing myself inside the world
I have made here inside of my mind for myself, alone…
This way time may pass even before the sun rises tomorrow, and then-and then?
My life perhaps shall have some meaning-
poem by Claudia Krizay
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Laughing
Laocoon and her two sons
Pressured storm, tried to move
No other more, emotion bound
Martyred, misconstrued
Lighted in a room, lanky room
Lighted, lighted, laughing in tune
Lighted, lighted, laughing
Laocoon and her two sons
Run the gamut, sated view
Know them more, emotion bound
Martyred, misconstrued
Lighted in a room, lanky room
Lighted, lighted, laughing in tune
Lighted, lighted, laughing
In a room, lock the door, latch the room
Lighted, lighted, laughing
Laocoon and her two sons
Ran the gamut, settled new,
Find a place fit to laugh,
Lock the doors, latch the room
Lighted in a room, lanky room
Lighted, lighted, laughing in tune
Lighted, lighted, laughing in tune
Lighted, lighted, laughing in tunes
Lighted, lighted, laughing in tunes
song performed by by REM
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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When You Begin To Speak With Your Heart
after dinner my wife leaves
to pray inside our room
you have no plan leaving
the night is deep and dark
outside we sit on the grass
and you are trying to cope up
with softness looking for
some tiny stars above us
you talk i have always prepared
myself to listen to your stories
and your poems
always sad and dedicated to
those who are dying but still
wanting to breathe
you sigh you talk about a name
he is your son and your minds
are two poles apart
you want to touch him like
a very dear friend
but he already lives in another
world in a mind he calls his own
at such a very young age
you remember a big river
meeting this big rock in the middle
they parted ways like
a paper that you cut and crumple
you have more to reveal
but my wife has switched off the light
in her room and you understand
this place is not yours to shed your tears
now you must go and find
your son again his heart his mind....
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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A Gaze Upon Myself
the possibilities of a body
are all here: luscious lips, contours
of my arms
the promises of my butt
and the courage of
my chest,
so much is here
all these resources
laying bare wanting to be used
even abused
come... let us meet secretly
the wonders of our youth
tonight
when i am alone again
inside my room, when the hotels
are closed,
when the cafes are cruel,
when the roads are emptied
of children
when the skies have no stars
come to me then, youth to my youth
inside my room
where my heart is numb
when the only possibility is the pleasure
that our bodies can offer
when intimacy is not the question anymore
when commitment is out of the issue
we are here
at this point we shall only discuss
how our skins
can accommodate all the pleasures
therein.
come to me when i am alone again
let us make pleasures
under the moon.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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The Great and Little Weavers
The great and the little weavers,
They neither rest nor sleep.
They work in the height and the glory,
They toil in the dark and the deep.
The rainbow melts with the shower,
The white-thorn falls in the gust,
The cloud-rose dies into shadow,
The earth-rose dies into dust.
But they have not faded forever,
They have not flowered in vain,
For the great and the little weavers
Are weaving under the rain.
Recede the drums of the thunder
When the Titan chorus tires,
And the bird-song piercing the sunset
Faints with the sunset fires,
But the trump of the storm shall fail not,
Nor the flute-cry fail of the thrush,
For the great and the little weavers
Are weaving under the hush.
The comet flares into darkness,
The flame dissolves into death,
The power of the star and the dew
They glow and are gone like a breath,
But ere the old wonder is done
Is the new-old wonder begun,
For the great and the little weavers
Are weaving under the sun.
The domes of an empire crumble,
A child's hope dies in tears;
Time rolls them away forgotten
In the silt of the flooding years;
The creed for which men died smiling
Decays to a beldame's curse;
The love that made lips immortal
Drags by in a tattered hearse.
But not till the search of the moon
Sees the last white face uplift,
And over the bones of the kindreds
The bare sands dredge and drift,
Shall Love forget to return
And lift the unused latch,
(In his eyes the look of the traveller,
On his lips the foreign catch),
Nor the mad song leave men cold,
Nor the high dream summon in vain, --
For the great and the little weavers
Are weaving in heart and brain.
poem by Sir Charles George Douglas Roberts
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Teardrops Will Fall
I read your letter, darlin'
Tears filled my eyes
All of the promises you made were nothing but lies
So I turned your photograph around face to the wall
And when I dim the lights in my room tonight
Teardrops will fall
Teardrops will fall tonight
Tears I can't hide
Tears that I'd rather keep
Deep down inside
Tears fall
And love is gone beyond these walls
And when I dim the lights in my room tonight
Teardrops will fall
I'm gonna pray tonight, baby
Hopin' you will hear
And maybe you'll write all those wrongs
And dry each tear
I sit alone tonight
Hopin' you will call
And when I dim the lights in my room tonight
Teardrops will fall
Teardrops will fall tonight
Tears I can't hide
Tears that I'd rather keep
Deep down inside
Tears fall
And love is gone beyond these walls
And when I dim the lights in my room tonight
Teardrops will fall
Teardrops will fall tonight
Tears I can't hide
Tears that I'd rather keep
Deep down inside
Tears fall
And love is gone beyond these walls
And when I dim the lights in my room tonight
When I dim the lights in my room tonight
Teardrops will fall
song performed by by John Mellencamp
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Ambivalence
it easy to spot
our ambivalence
our lips want to kiss
but your hands
push my chest away
i want to hug you
and make love
with you
but my mind says
i may be
into a long range
trouble
i am thinking
of a room where
we can think
and speak our minds
where we can
forget the dangers
of our game
i reserve a day
for both of us
where we can
simply sit and
do not discuss
morality and what
people may say
yet my feet take
the cab and the
next thing i know
i am in a plane
warmed by my
own black jacket
my arms folded
my hands in
my pockets
i am beside
someone else
and the plane
touches down
and i cough
and it rains
and i step out
and i hide
in another room
far away from
you
and i tell myself
i will be missing you
the word is goodbye
it is never hello
it is never us
it is not the heat
but the coldness of
our coward hearts
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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There Will Never Be Another Tonight
Put on your best dress darling
Can't you see the time is right
There will never be another tonight
If you got your motor runnin'
Then I got my engines on
Say the word and darlin' we'll be gone
Outside the world is waitin'
But we won't lose control
So come on now - let the good times roll
You gotta ride your broom right into my room
Kick off your shoes make yourself at home
Wave your little wand - weave a little spell
Make a little magic - raise some hell
There will never be another tonight
C'mon baby - hold on tight
There will never be another tonight
I don't care if it's wrong or right
We got nothin' to lose just me and you
In your wildest dreams...
There'll never be another tonight
Who cares about tomorrow
Let the wind fill your sails
A runaway train ridin' on the rails
We got the bases loaded
Home run - power play
Tonight's the night we're goin' all the way
You gotta ride your broom right into my room
Kick off your shoes make yourself at home
Wave your little wand - weave a little spell
Make a little magic - raise some hell
There will never be another tonight
C'mon baby - hold on tight
There will never be another tonight
Flash your diamonds shine your lights
There'll never be another tonight
I don't care if it's wrong or right
Cause we got nothin' to lose just me and you
In your wildest dreams...
There'll never be another tonight
Some people they're looking for paradise
Others they're looking for inner light
Me I'm just having the time of my life
I'm headin' out
song performed by by Bryan Adams from Waking Up The Neighbours
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Come To Me
There's a lizard on my window,
There's a moon above Cassis
There's a menu in my room that can't be read
I am burned, broke and legless on pastis
And tonight you're all I really miss or need
There's a band down the street
Singing high and sweet
But I can't make out a word they say
"Tout le monde de besoin d'amour"
Won't you come to me, come to me
Won't you come to me
There's a map inside my pocket,
But I don't know where I'll go
I'm pulled in all directions by the moon
I am lost, free, exhausted and alive
And you been on my mind all afternoon
But the lines are always blocked
And the operators talk
But I can't make out a word they say
"Tout le monde de besoin d'amour"
Won't you come to me, come to me
Won't you come to me
song performed by by Quarterflash
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The White Room
Spanna noo na noo na ne na naho
Spanna noo na ne ne naho
Spa noo na naho
Noo na naho
Noo na naho
Spa noo na naho
Spanna noo na noo na noo na naho
Spanna noo na noo na nehhey
Spa noo na nehhey
Noo na naho
Noo na naho
Spanna noo na noo na ne na naho
Spanna noo na ne ne naho
[more spa na noo ne na noo things]
Talk to me, talk to me
If you want to know the things we see
Then step inside our skins
The white room, the white room
We spin, we turn, watch and wait
As the world just creeps on bye
The white room, the white room
Ooohhaaa
Talk to me, talk to me
Far below, a small boat sails,
Catching fish from the sea.
The white room, the white room
We climb the mountain,
Feel the wind,
We climbed to touch the stars.
The white room, the white room
Ooohhaaa
The white room, the white room
[more spetta na noo ne na noo things]
The white room, the white room
The white room, the white room
[more spetta na noo ne na noo things]
The white room, the white room
song performed by by KLF
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Nursery Rhyme (UNKLEsounds Edit)
Badly Drawn Boy :
Does it mean I never let you know
Each time I turn inside
When I fully grow I'll outsize you
But I won't let you fall in love
You know it flows over me
And you won't let me drown inside
Sing a nursery rhyme to keep me quiet
Sing a nursery rhyme to keep me quiet
Woman please stay close to me, close to me
Carried through your ecstasy
You can't stop me breathing
Even when you're on fire
Know that you're weaving
With my emotional wires
Flows through me, in through me, out through me
Over me, feeling me, feeding me electrically
It's electric ballroom love X7
Do do do do, do do do do
I have to breathe the air you breathe
I'm inside you
In a room inside a room, I'm inside you
The colour changes follow your emotion
I can see when you're feeling desire
I feel him close to you
While I just walk around inside you
Don't let him close to me
Not when you know it's not the one
The one X6 that you love
It's electric ballroom love X7
Keep me quiet
Won't you sing me a nursery rhyme
To keep me quiet while you're on fire
X3
Please just sing me a nursery rhyme
To keep me quiet, while I'm inside
X2
I won't let you fall in love
You know inside, the baby knows
X4
Your baby knows X4
You're on fire, you're on fire
Keep me quiet, keep me angry
song performed by by Unkle
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Complicated Melody
If he were a color
Hed be a deep dark forrest green
If he were a car
Hed be a long stretch limousine
With room for all of humanity inside
Cause he is so giving
And he is so wise
If he were a number
Hed be a five cause he has such a brilliant mind
If he were an animal
Hed be an ass cause hes so stubborn sometime
But if he were a song
Hed be a complicated melody
That complicated fellow he
I almost can not sing it on key
But he means the world to me
If he were a building
Hed be a beautiful cathedral
Cause hes so traditionally spiritual
If he were a dance
Hed be complicated like the tango
Exotic like a mango
But if he were a song
Hed be a complicated melody
That complicated fellow he
I almost can not sing it on key
But he means the world to me
He aint the reason for the sun and the moon
He is just the reason for this here tune
Cause he means the world to me (ooh ooh)
Said he means the world to me
Me me me yeah
He means the world to me yeah
Complicated melody that complicated fellow he
Hes a complicated melody
I almost can not sing it on key
song performed by by India Arie
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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We sleep, but the loom of life never stops, and the pattern which was weaving when the sun went down is weaving when it comes up in the morning.
quote by Henry Ward Beecher
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Truth In Deathbed
if you brought the
truth about me in your deathbed
do not worry
i am not interested to know
i make myself
i weave
my lies too
i am the spider weaving
my own house
that traps
all my prey and i have learned
to eat them all
sleep well mother
do not tell me what heaven
is all about
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Associated with the Weaving
It becomes difficult to witness,
Someone struggling to untangle...
From a web they did weave strategically.
With an acknowledgement they had spent,
Time in trying to convince,
Their actions and deeds...
Were done with the utmost sincerity.
And to one who has warned...
Through use of observation that connects,
It becomes hard to protect one's integrity.
When standing firm with beliefs.
While others perceive this stance as weak.
It becomes difficult to witness,
Someone struggling to untangle...
From a web they did weave strategically.
Since those now stuck,
In that web that has been woven...
Find themselves equally embarrassed,
Following along as if deaf, dumb and blind...
Because of the 'appearance' of deceit,
A culprit for them has chosen to undermind.
It becomes difficult to witness,
Someone struggling to untangle...
From a web they did weave strategically.
And those following who rejected what had been said...
From past experiences hoped to prevent this,
Find they have become associated with the weaving.
And even though they may be innocent...
A speaking to anyone not paying attention,
Any empathy expressed still will not be heard.
It may be difficult to see as witnessed,
But...
Unbearable to leave as seen,
It is not.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Matters Of The Heart
I lose my head
From time to time
I make a fool of myself
In matters of the heart
We should have been holding each other
Instead we talked
I make a fool of myself
In matters of the heart
But I asked before
Your reply was kind and polite
One wants more
When ones denied
I make a fool of myself
In matters of the heart
I wont call it love
But it feels good to have passion in my life
If theres a battle
I hope my head always defers to my heart
In matters of the heart
I guess Im crazy to think
I can give you what you dont want
I make a fool of myself
In matters of the heart
I wish that I had the power
To make these feelings stop
I lose all self control
In matters of the heart
I cant believe
Its so hard to find someone
To give affection to
And from whom you can receive
I guess its just the draw of the cards
In matters of the heart
You caught me off guard
Somehow you reached me
Where I thought I had nothing left inside
Ive learned my lesson Ive been edified
In matters of the heart
Ive spent my nights
Where the sleeping dogs lie
Not by your side
It feels so lonely
Once again Ive left to much to chance
In matters of the heart
Here I sit
Im feeling sorry for myself
Its quite a sight
But I have you to thank
For reminding me
Were all alone in this world
And in matters of the heart
Im already missing you
Although we wont say good byes
Until tomorrow afternoon
Maybe when and if I see you again
Well see eye to eye
In matters of the heart
I have no harsh words for you
I have no tears to cry
If the moon were full
Id be howling inside
It only hurts
In matters of the heart
If today were my birthday
Id be reborn
As brontes bird a bird that could fly
And all accounts would be settled
In matters of the heart
Matters of the heart
song performed by by Tracy Chapman
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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