The Day Of The Elderly
they gather this morning
at the park
and had a marathon,
and then they shared
dinner with the mayor
having dried fish
and steamed rice
and then they dance
the kuracha and the
tango
as others sing the
old songs
how nice is the color
of the sunset
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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A Situationer.....
he has been writing
he is thinking and then she calls him for dinner
there is a blackout
and she lights a candle so he can see the fumes of steamed rice
the green color of braised morning glory
he is silent and she does not ask
she does not know whether he has been writing a lot
whether he is lost in the maze of his thoughts
she has cooked dinner for him
she calls his name
it is dinner time and that is the most important hour
she trusts him
he is dying
the needed light for the evening did not come
there are no stars outside the window
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Amen, Amen...
for the few grains of rice that i have given you
and for the slice of fish,
God has given me more than what
i have parted,
God has given me a house, a rice granary,
a thousand loaves of bread,
an ocean of fish
plus a book of poems,
plus the nightingale songs
My heart sings praises for Him.
For every grain of rice that i have shared with a hungry neighbor,
God has replenished me with truckloads.
FOR THE FEW cents that i have given as fare for the old woman
who wishes to go home,
God has repaid me money in bundles.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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What Do I Really Need?
upon a dining table
i too, ask myself,
what do i really need?
one fried dried fish
a cup of steamed brown rice
a pinch of salt
five drops of coconut vinegar
a glass of water
and then the much needed
rest for the night
& with you
my bare hands
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Mother's Steamed Rice
the sweetest song from the kitchen
that i hear
is mother's steamed rice
its smoke rising
to the ceiling
of our old wooden house
the smell so fresh
so sweetly scented with
pandan leaves
so heavenly
in broad daylight
i can see the moon and stars
beside the plate full of white steamed rice
are five pieces of salted fish
their skin charred with the cinders
their eyes staring
poisoned with so much envy
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Varied Menu
Chicken and rice.
Fish and rice.
Rice and chicken.
Rice and fish.
Varied menu - 'ish!
Nice jungle place.
There's plenty of space.
Fresh clean air
But that dietary pair,
Fish or chicken
.....Not again!
So more trekking with a frown
Back to Georgetown.....
poem by George BernardBloodyShaw
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Walk The Talk
where do you live?
i ask him
'i live there' he says,
pointing to a far place
it is a greenery, a forest opaque to the mist,
there is a path that leads there
on bare feet, and without any burden
to carry on
your back,
he says he is an honest man
and shall live with it for many years to come
he says he comes from a family of honest genealogy
and he thrives on simple living and word of honor
his face has a very gentle disposition
like that of the
common lamb
his words are soft
like a rose that you enclose with your hand
before he left for his intended journey
i had a bowl of rice and a
dried fish in my kitchen
i almost believe him
until my bowl of rice
and dried fish are all gone.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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This Is Heaven
I wake up each morning
with the songs of the birds
and in the air are the smell
of the greens and blooms
and of the fruits on the table.
This is heaven
yes, this is heaven.
I feel no hunger
I see no guns
I may have to work all day
but I am always greeted with peace
by the downing sunset.
I am in heaven
yes, I am in heaven.
But I tell you my friend
It's lonely here in heaven
there is drinking
but no music
there is food
but no feast
there are songs
I cannot sing
and dance
I cannot dance
there are gatherings
I couldn't get in
and yes,
this is heaven
but I feel
all alone.
poem by Marites C. Cayetano
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We Have Danced Tango
We have danced tango in exploiting the earth
We stamp our feet as we move to explore
the whole dancing space on the stage
We only look into the gaiety in our own eyes
as we seek to declare ourselves the winner
in our mastery of the magical move of our body
We explore the mother earth, making believe
that the whole stage is ours to exploit without limit.
With the rhythm of our tango dance
we create atom bombs and other weapons
for the countless crowd
We choke the trees, plants and animals
with our inventions and chemicals
We stuff our water and air
with poison and carbon from our own hands.
We continue to dance our tango dance
claiming that the whole stage is ours.
And we dance and dance our tango dance
until music ceases to be replayed
for the mother earth announces
that our own clever dance and music
choke her to death and our tango on
the great stage cannot at all continue.
poem by Elizabeth Padillo Olesen
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What Song Do You Sing…
What song do you sing?
When you see the sun
At noon,
Bright and fiery
Only to come at one
To meet the sunset.
What song do you sing?
When you look at the
Moon,
To go, bring mat
Only to come out with
Tears gushing out.
What song do you sing?
What song to sing
As the lock cling.
We used to lift
And dip our souls
In it’s bowels,
We’d with old farewells….
What song do you sing? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? (part 1)
What song do you sing?
What song to sing
For the birds is gone home
To be with the stars
As they croon.
Up they’re in the sky.
What song do you sing?
How do you start?
Do you gather scalpels,
To go knock it
Against the pears,
As elegy, for its peers.
What song do you sing?
How do you start?
Do you gather firewood’s
On your way home,
To go await the coming
Of the moon.
After the quick noon.
What song do you sing?
How do you start?
Do you make the rhythm,
As she smiles….
With the echoes of
Yonder, a thousand miles.
And I see my feelings
Wrapped by her arms,
To share songs.
What song did you sing for her?
Written by
Pickzone007
a.k.a De_Cruxifixion.
poem by Goodluck Etserefe
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Do not expect too much
This is it, this is poetry
Written by this man
He is looking by his window
To the world like a little boy
Still wondering, scribbling
Some figures of man and
Superman, putting them wings
Imagining that soon they will fly,
Do not expect too much
I myself do not have wings
I do not promise you any
I am simply writing the view
The green ricefields I do not
Have rice for you to cook I do
Not have water for you to drink
I have these words, only you
Can convert them to steamed
Rice to cakes to bacons to ham
To fish to sea to clouds to sun
Or simply coffee for you to sip
When you still hunger for breakfast.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Downtown Samba
This ones called
Now for you
Downtown samba
Canal streets where we dance
We do the rhumba, samba
The citys hot, were almost naked
Its a scandal
Nights still young
We do the samba with the congo warrior
Downtown samba (2x)
Hey you over there
You shouldnt dance alone
Watch me come on closer
Cause I am the one
To dance with you
All night long
Im dancing like a mambo
Go go go for sambo
Dancing, dancing, dancing
Tango
Over there, mister
Come see, youll see
So dance the tango, tango
song performed by by Yello
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Downtown Samba
This ones called
Now for you
Downtown samba
Canal streets where we dance
We do the rhumba, samba
The citys hot, were almost naked
Its a scandal
Nights still young
We do the samba with the congo warrior
Downtown samba (2x)
Hey you over there
You shouldnt dance alone
Watch me come on closer
Cause I am the one
To dance with you
All night long
Im dancing like a mambo
Go go go for sambo
Dancing, dancing, dancing
Tango
Over there, mister
Come see, youll see
So dance the tango, tango
song performed by by Yello
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Bananas & Cream
(kinky friedman)
Well, a long time ago in old tokyo
By the softly flowing stream
I left her there with the stars in her hair
On the other side of a dream.
Well, I traveled through with a heart full of blue
Never quite making my way
Till I come upon a strawberry blonde
Living in pittsburgh, p.a.
Ah, bananas and rice they used to be nice
On the other side of a dream.
Oh, bananas and rice they used to be nice
But now its bananas an cream.
I stood hypnotized, I stared in her eyes,
She smiled and I suddenly knew
If I made her my bride then the other side
0f my dream would finally come true.
Ah, bananas and rice they used to be nice
On the other side of a dream.
Oh, oh, bananas and rice they used to be nice
But now its bananas and cream.
Well, a long time ago in old tokyo
By the softly flowing stream
I left her there with the stars in her hair
On the other side of a dream.
Ah, bananas and rice they used to be nice
On the other side of a dream.
Oh, bananas and rice they used to be nice
But now its bananas and cream.
Bananas and rice used to be nice
On the other side of a dream.
Oh, oh, bananas and rice they used to be nice
But now its bananas and cream.
Bananas and rice used to be nice
On the other side of a dream.
Bananas and rice ...
song performed by by Kinky Friedman
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Bananas And Cream
(Kinky Friedman)
Well, a long time ago in old Tokyo
By the softly flowing stream
I left her there with the stars in her hair
On the other side of a dream.
Well, I traveled through with a heart full of blue
Never quite making my way
Till I come upon a strawberry blonde
Living in Pittsburgh, P.A.
Ah, bananas and rice they used to be nice
On the other side of a dream.
Oh, bananas and rice they used to be nice
But now it's bananas an cream.
I stood hypnotized, I stared in her eyes,
She smiled and I suddenly knew
If I made her my bride then the other side
0f my dream would finally come true.
Ah, bananas and rice they used to be nice
On the other side of a dream.
Oh, oh, bananas and rice they used to be nice
But now it's bananas and cream.
Well, a long time ago in old Tokyo
By the softly flowing stream
I left her there with the stars in her hair
On the other side of a dream.
Ah, bananas and rice they used to be nice
On the other side of a dream.
Oh, bananas and rice they used to be nice
But now it's bananas and cream.
Bananas and rice used to be nice
On the other side of a dream.
Oh, oh, bananas and rice they used to be nice
But now it's bananas and cream.
Bananas and rice used to be nice
On the other side of a dream.
Bananas and rice ...
song performed by by Kinky Friedman
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Clouds tango in sky
Pink and gold swirls of color
Sunset of orange glows
haiku by Dorothy Holmes (06 June 2008)
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Gaiety
The gayest songs of the morning
As the mist hangs over the hills,
For they dance, and they dance, in the Eastern world
While humanity pays its bills.
For the song of the Moonlight Sonata,
And the frost on the snow-white fields,
Oh! they dance, and they dance in the Eastern world,
While the yellow harvest yields.
The gayest songs of the morning
Forever the world goes round,
While the clock ticks by on the mantelpiece.
And the birds in the trees make a sound,
For ever and ever all nature sings,
While the lark up above doth soar on its wings,
And they dance, and they dance in the Eastern world
The gayest songs of they morning.
poem by Peter Buss
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When I Am In Love
when i am in love
my feet dance the tango
alone in the park
even without the music
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Tango
The beginning is timid
time has no limit.
magic movements are slow,
we dance the tango of love.
It's the music of feelings,
bliss and passion revealing,
dance of flight and explosion
of hidden love.
The beginning is timid
and is not so vivid,
then it turns into wild
and grasping dance.
We go deep into music,
plunge ourselves into tango,
flow together in movements,
in the rhythms of love.
You throw down the gauntlet
and I gently accept it,
then resign or surrender
as I love to be flown.
Your glance strikes like a dagger,
then it looks like a beggar,
then it turns into covert
and shifts aside.
Step....3 more.... and I wonder
if the next step is a thunder
or it will slightly blow
just like a breeze.
Glamor rhythms of tango,
languid music of passion,
I am out of fashion
and lose my head.
Our thoughts and emotions
on the verge of explosion,
on the verge of insanity
of crazy love.
Tango waked up a volcano
singing songs Italiano,
flaming love and desire
of two in love.
We dance the tango of passion
which is out of fashion
turning time to eternity
and the beauty of love.
Larisa R (Odessa, Ukraine)
poem by Larisa Rzhepishevska
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Folklore for Children (1) and (2)
(1)
Won't you listen in my garden
to the tapping dancing feet
and the singing of the fairies
playing violins so sweet?
Won't you listen to the pixies
and the fairy queen's refrain,
songs of romance, songs of folklore
or do the fairies sing in vain?
Come and join these mystic beings
with pretty wings of fairest hue
delightful elves and friendly fairies
will sing and dance each day for you.
(2)
Down in yonder Elfin Park
Fairies play upon the swing.
Mother nature makes her mark
Saying 'au revoir' to spring.
Summertime is entering in
Fairy Queen begins to sing
No longer dark in Elfin Park
Sunbeams light the fairy ring.
Pretty Queen has lost her heart
True love to her is everything
And if we walk through Elfin Park
Bells will surely 'ting-a-ling'.
poem by Joyce Hemsley
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The New Man
1
on those younger days
when i went up to the high and lonely mountain
i wrote about a young emaciated brown girl in the faraway hill
thriving on a chunk of muscovado
sugar and a handful of off-white steamed rice for breakfast
there was no dried fish on the plate of a banana leaf
i had written about an unjust social order
and i dreamed of immediate reforms
it was when i too was struggling then
over a loss of an identity in the city
over a poverty that struck us like a plague
of the century
2
now things have changed a lot
i cannot trace that girl
and the place where she once lived had been all erased from the map
the road had been closed
and the hill flattened to the ground
and i do not long for change anymore
my voice has mellowed like a cat with a wriggling fish in its mouth
it is silenced by my own social sinfulness
this contentment from within
because the social order now has fed me well
i have become a man stripped of its restless soul
masked and displayed as another useful tool
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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