En.Citatepedia^®.ro

The First Part Of The Misleading Venture

the poor [ i.e. workers of the farm,
pregnant corn husker, the driver of the
pedicab, the smoking tomato gatherer,
the sweet potato washer}

i am lost in the symbols
of humanity, i am trying to decipher again
the meaning of their visit
and they decision here to spend the night
at the second floor of this house
where my father-in-law died because his
son pushed him towards the stair
and hit his head
on the grinding stone

the bolo is sharp, blood flowed from the
pig's neck
after that scream

there is noise, and some magicians are selling
potions
when someone needs love so badly
and then resorts
of spells

the natives are smelling so bad
there is no water in the river where they come from
they are thin
there stomachs are filled with air
hairs with lice

i guess you know when this happens
and why this happens
because, it is fiesta time and there is no more road for us to use.

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Excerpt: Correction Of An Enigma

i am lost in the symbols
of humanity,

i am trying to decipher again
the meaning of their visit
and their

decision to spend the night here
at the second floor of this house
where my father-in-law died because his
son pushed him towards the stair
and hit his head
on the grinding stone

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Excerpt: The Magma

the natives are smelling so badly
saliva dries on their lips
they rub carabao manure on their bodies
and put
a dead beetle on their navels

there is no water in the river where they come from
it was taken by thirsty fish towards the
China sea

they are thin
i mean their children who only eat
buds of
the guava tree

their stomachs are filled with air
their
hairs with lice

i guess you know when this happens
and why this happens

because, it is fiesta time
and there is no more road for us to use
because the more important figures
are busy playing
deaf.

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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All This Time

I looked out across
The river today
I saw a city in the fog and an old church tower
Where the seagulls play
I saw the sad shire horses walking home
In the sodium light
I saw two priests on the ferry
October geese on a cold winters night
And all this time, the river flowed
Endlessly to the sea
Two priests came round our house tonight
One young, one old, to offer prayers for the dying
To serve the final rite
One to learn, one to teach
Which was the cold wind blows
Fussing and flapping in priestly black
Like a murder of crows
And all this time, the river flowed
Endlessly to the sea
If I had my way Id take a boat from the river
And Id bury the old man,
Id bury him at sea
Blessed are the poor, for they shall inherit the earth
Better to be poor than a fat man in the eye of a needle
And as these words were spoken I swore I hear
The old man laughing
what good is a used up world and how could it be
Worth having
And all this time the river flowed
Endlessly like a silent tear
And all this time the river flowed
Father, if jesus exists,
Then how come he never lived here
The teachers told us, the romans built this place
They built a wall and a temple, an edge of the empire
Garrison town,
They lived and they died, they prayed to their gods
But the stone gods did not make a sound
And their empire crumbled, til all that was left
Were the stones the workmen found
And all this time the river flowed
In the falling light of a northern sun
If I had my way Id take a boat from the river
Men go crazy in congregations
But they only get better
One by one
One by one...

song performed by by Sting
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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All This Time

I looked out across
The river today,
I saw a city in the fog and an old church tower
Where the seagulls play.
I saw the sad shire horses walking home
In the sodium light
I saw two priests on the ferry
October geese on a cold winter's night
And all this time, the river flowed
Endlessly to the sea.
Two priests came round our house tonight
One young, one old, to offer prayers for the dying
To serve the final rite,
One to learn, one to teach,
Which way the cold wind blows
Fussing and flapping in priestly black
Like a murder of crows
And all this time, the river flowed
Endlessly to the sea
If I had my way I'd take a boat from the river
And I'd bury the old man,
I'd bury him at sea
Blessed are the poor, for they shall inherit the earth
Better to be poor than a fat man in the eye of a needle
And as these words were spoken I swear I hear
The old man laughing,
'What good is a used up world, and how could it be
worth having'
And all this time the river flowed
Endlessly like a silent tear
And all this time the river flowed
Father, if Jesus exists,
Then how come he never lived here.
The teacher told us, the Romans built this place
They built a wall and a temple, an edge of the empire
Garrison town,
They lived and they died, they prayed to their gods
But the stone gods did not make a sound
And their empire crumbled, 'til all that was left
Were the stones the workmen found
And all this time the river flowed
In the falling light of a northern sun
If I had my way I'd take a boat from the river
Men go crazy in congregations
But they only get better
One

song performed by by Police
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Heart Beating In Time

Each day without fail
the road would visit the house

(it was the only house the road knew)

and the house too
would look forward to

the road’s visit.

Over the years they became
good friends.

Then one day the house died
from lack of people
and was torn down

until it was only
memory and rubble.

The road continued to visit it
but could only stare into empty space

at the place where the house
had been.

The road was lonely.

At night it talked to
the landscape and the stars

but life was never the same
again.

One day the road just up and died
from lack of use.

Now only the dream
of a memory exists

and the landscape and stars
talk to themselves

and try to remember
what it is...they have

forgot.

poem by Dónall Dempsey
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I Like Tomato Sauce

i like tomato sauce
and so i keep lots of
and different kinds of
tomato sauces inside
the ref and when i open
it one night i thought
tomato sauce are also
water and i am in a trance
of some sort or something
i drink tomato sauce
and i remember you:

saucy, so saucy
i thought i am floating
in the river filled with
tomato sauce, yes,

my point is: be proud
i always think of you.

saucy, yes, so saucy.

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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My Name Is Jonas

My name is jonas!
Im carrying the wheel.
Thanks for all youve shown us.
But this is how we feel.
Come sit next to me, pour yourself some tea.
Just like grandma made, when we couldnt find sleep.
Things were better then.
Once but never again.
Weve all left the den, let me tell you bout it.
The choo-choo train left right on time.
A ticket cost only your mind.
The driver said hey man, we go all the way.
Of course we were willing to pay!
My name is wepeel !
Got a box full of your toys.
Theyre fresh out of batteries.
But youre still making noise! making noise!
Tell me what to do,
Now the tank is dry, now this wheel is flat, and you know what else!
Guess what I received in the mail today,
Words of deep concern, for my little brother.
The buildings not going as he planned...
The foreman has injured his hand,
The dozer will not clear a path,
The driver swears he learned his math !
The workers are going home.
Workers are going home.
The workers are going home.
The workers are going home.
Yeah!
The workers are going home.
The workers are going home.
The workers are going home.
Yeah yeah yeah!
My name is jonas.

song performed by by Weezer
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Do It Now

Once upon the time there was a girl/

She used to say tomorrow i can do/

But somehow her tomorrow's never came true/

Every tomorrow drugged with it another one/

And the poor girl never found the right time to do/

What she decided doing/

Once upon the time there was a pretty girl/

One day the pretty girl fell in love/

Every time she decided to describe her emotions she was shy/

She always delayed expressing her love to the next time/

And for her the right next Time never came around/

She lost her chance somehow and lost her love/

Once upon the time there was a man/

He was known with his anger and cruelty even with his little boy/

But every night the father went to his little kid's room with crying eyes watched him sleeping/

And every night he decided to apologies and never again to beat his little boy but his decision never came true/

The poor kid was the victim of having a father like him/

One day the poor boy had an accident and died/

Unfortunately the right time for the cruel father never came true to change his atitude/

So if you want to do something do it right now tomorrow may never comes/

If you want to confess your love do it right now the life is so short shout out/

Those words are there burden in your heart when still you have the time/

And when you find out that you have to change your atitude/

Change it while you still have the chance/

Never think twice to do your apologies when you really have done wrongs/

poem by Sossi Khachadourian
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Dark Night

Night dark but your lies were darker

Night cruel but your love more crueler

Night all alone yet better than your absent minded with me

Night was the time i gave my whole to you

Night was the time you slapped my face

Night was the day you pushed me to the door.

Night was the time you abused me

Night was the time you slit my tongue

Night was the time the moon refuses to smile at us

Night was the time i lost you

Night was the time you left me all in the rain

Night was the time i cry you a river

Night under the tree you promise me your undying love

Night was the time you bid me goodbye

Night was the time you threw a stone into my glassy world.

poem by Blessing Ekpe
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Driver 8

The walls are built up, stone by stone,
The fields divided one by one.
And the train conductor says
take a break driver 8, driver 8 take a break
Weve been on this shift too long
And the train conductor says
take a break driver 8, driver 8 take a break
We can reach our destination, but were still a ways away
I saw a treehouse on the outskirts of the farm.
The power lines have floaters so the airplanes wont get snagged.
Bells are ringing through the town again,
Children look up, all they hear is sky-blue, bells ringing
And the train conductor says
take a break driver 8, driver 8 take a break
We can reach our destination, but were still a ways away
Way to shield the hated heat.
Way to put myself to sleep.
Way to shield the hated heat.
Way to put myself, my children to sleep.
He piloted this song in a plane like that one.
She is selling faith on the go tell crusade.
Locomotive 8, southern crescent, hear the bells ring again.
Field of wheat is looking thin
And the train conductor says
take a break driver 8, driver 8 take a break
Weve been on this shift too long.
And the train conductor says
take a break driver 8, driver 8 take a break
We can reach our destination, but were still a ways away

song performed by by REM
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Driver 8

(r.e.m)
The walls are built up, stone by stone;
The fields divided one by one.
And the train conductor says,
Take a break driver 8, driver 8 take a break
Weve been on this shift too long
And the train conductor says,
Take a break driver 8, driver 8 take a break
We can reach our destination, but were still a ways away
I saw a treehouse on the outskirts of the farm.
The power lines have floaters so the airplanes wont get snagged.
Bells are ringing through the town again,
Children look up, all they hear is sky-blue, bells ringing
And the train conductor says
Take a break driver 8, driver 8 take a break
We can reach our destination, but were still a ways away
Way to shield the hated heat.
Way to put myself to sleep.
Way to shield the hated heat.
Way to put myself, my children to sleep.
He piloted this song in a plane like that one.
She is selling faith on the go tell crusade.
Locomotive 8, southern crescent, hear the bells ring again.
Field to weed is lookin thin
And the train conductor says
Take a break driver 8, driver 8 take a break
Weve been on this shift too long.
And the train conductor says,
Take a break driver 8, driver 8 take a break.
We can reach our destination, but were still a ways away

song performed by by Hootie & The Blowfish
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Arabah

My tears bath my pillow in the night like a river and,
My bed soaks all around me in the night like a lake;
But to whom shall i keep my peace with when,
I am lost in the ocean of the night?

Praise so be to you who understands my problem,
For how long can i swim to you on this river of love?
I am lost, naked lonely;
And i need your ture love to carry me on.
I am lost on this side of the river and,
How can i swim through this ocean of love?
Since, the woes of the night is all over me.

You can hear the noise of the river and,
You also see the pains to my movements;
But the sea of love to my heart is like this lake around me.
Come and carry me over this ocean,
Come and take me to the other side of love;
And like two lovers lost in the deep blue sea,
Why should my night be so long on your love?

This night needs an escape to your love zone,
So come oh my lover and take me across the sea;
And, why should this trap run over me without my lover?
For the cold of the night had also traped me than thought.

Come oh my lover and see me through,
For i am very lonely and naked;
And there comes the river of my tears again.
I have to overcome this lake and rushed into the ocean,
For your sweet love is enough to see me through the waves of the sea.

Why should this occur to me when, i am cold and lonely?
For a beggar knows his own lover and the blind knows his own way;
But i am alone and lost in my dreams.

Come oh my lover,
Come and see mee through;
Arabah is your name and, i will overcome this water by your sweet love.

poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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A Seasoned Driver

For all those seasons yours are bolder still,
Man wants the woman strong and ardent most,
If men do think more suddenly and boast
When sweet are women due to greater skill.
In each strong age, the person must fulfill
His lust and gender like the one foremost,
His danger brought a night near the seacoast,
Like water drunk as potions, much freewill.

We drive a car to seize the road of bliss,
Men drive so better and so brill, able,
The female driver carries teeth of stone;
Much death results from what they kiss and miss,
We’ll deaden that manoeuver like a circle
To understand the male who drives alone.

poem by Naveed Akram
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The Road That Runs Beside The River

follows the river as it bends
along the valley floor,
going the way it must.
Where water goes, so goes the road,
if there's room (not in a ravine,
gorge), the river
on your right or left. Left is better: when you're driving,
it's over your elbow across
the road.
You see the current, which is
what the river is: the river
in the river, a thing sliding fast forward
inside a thing sliding not so fast forward.
Driving with, beside, the river's flow is good.
Another pleasure, driving against it: it's the same river
someone else will see
somewhere else downstream -- same play,
new theater, different set.
Wide, shallow, fairly fast,
roundy-stone streambed, rocky-land river,
it turns there or here -- the ground
telling it so -- draining dull
mountains to the north,
migrating, feeding a few hard-fleshed fish
who live in it. One small sandbar splits
the river, then it loops left,
the road right, and the river's silver
slips under the trees,
into the forest,
and over the sharp perpendicular
edge of the earth.

poem by Thomas Lux
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Old Story from Bandung

Tracing free road; street
resistance
to Bandung
this is Old story
what always impressed
in liver alcove
innermost
what always emerge
when passing to take the air
in that town
we have gone up the pedicab
inversed almost
but pedicab worker sprier
quickly pedicab brought back
to position from the beginning
and we accelerate to return
in silent public road
chilled
I and you are
mute
until door
opened
don't know why
is only kept quiet.

poem by Prasetya Utama
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The Old Man Smiling

there was this old man
and i always remember him
tenant of the family for years
of the vast coconut land
we own

he was poor and lived in a very
small nipa hut
all house to him
no sala, no furnitures, just this
soil kitchen and dirty kettles and
unwashed tin cups and
and firewood and pail of water
from the nearby river

he got two sons and 3 daughters
all gone to the city
also becoming as domestic helpers
and he would bring a chicken from the farm
and a goat and some fruits
to grandpa and
grandpa would scold him for being too lazy
that the chicken was thin
and the goat was small
and the fruits were not ripe yet for harvest

and what i remember of the old man
was that no matter what verbal abuse or
(even physical abuse) that was accorded to him
he never answered or frowned or
complained

he had that smile always that i saw
and i always remember
always with a sad heart since then
even if i had already become a lawyer
and tried to defend the poor
peasants of our
little town

where the vast coconut farm has thrived
and still conquered
what little injustices still
left unsolved

he died years ago
and i could have died with him
if not
for the reason.

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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PEOPLES(For Lyn)

She gathers
the world

into her
consciousness

holds its facts
like a beautiful blue

bunch
of wild flowers

clutched
tightly in her tiny fist.

All is alive
to her

whether it be sky
cloud or river...whatever.

Nothing is ever
only a thing.

Everything
is

“...peoples! ”

We visit & re-visit
the old pond

full of
“frog peoples”

who greet her
ecstatically

as if
she were one of their own.

She waves regally.

Speaks to them
fluently in frog.

Even stones become
“...the stone peoples! ”

She likes them
“...’cos they are so quiet! ”

“Their quiet is like a big noise in my head! ”

That night
trying to smuggle

her favourite cat
into her bed

snuggled up inside
her jumper

as if she were
pregnant with it

(it scratching & meowing
to be born)

she announces
(caught in the act)

“Cats is peoples too! ”

We give in to
her superior logic

seeing things
as she do.

poem by Dónall Dempsey
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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A Husband's Regret

she got pregnant only once
on the third month yet
they still made love on the
hard floor of the house
and the lights were on
to see their beautiful
bodies soaked with sweat
and she moaned and blood
flowed and what she got
was not an orgasm but
an abortion

she recovered in the hospital
after a papsmear
and he bought a puppy all
white to mark the beginning
of his regret
on that sad day

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Little Negro

Ah! the poor little blackamoor, see there he goes,
And the blood gushes out from his half frozen toes,
And his legs are so thin you may see the very bones,
As he goes shiver, shiver, on the sharp cutting stones.

He was once a negro boy, and a merry boy was he,
Playing outlandish plays, by the tall palm tree;
Or bathing in the river, like a brisk water rat,
And at night sleeping sound, on a little bit of mat.

But there came some wicked people, and they stole him far away,
And then good bye to palm-tree tall, and merry merry play;
For they took him from his house and home, and ev'ry body dear,
And now, poor little negro boy, he's come a begging here.

And fie upon the wicked folks who did this cruel thing!
I wish some mighty nobleman would go and tell the king;
For to steal him from his house and home must be a crying sin,
Though he was a little negro boy, and had a sooty skin.

poem by Ann Taylor
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Smokin The Herb Again

Yo yo yo, yo, yo yo what
Smoking
Were smoking, were smoking the herb again
Were smoking, were smoking, were smoking the herb again
Were smoking, were smoking, were smoking the herb again
Were smoking, were smoking, were smoking the herb again
Damn, I really wish I could find my sack man
Must have got eaten by pac-man
If I had it I could smoke again
Smoke with my friends to the very end
But now Im trying to comprehend
Whens the next time that Ill smoke again
I need to know, please tell when will we smoke again
I got a buddy, his name is ted
Hes got a problem going through his head
He doesnt know how to puff puff give
But I like so Ill teach him and Ill let him live
Everyday we teach him right
When he divides, we have to fight
But at the end of the trying day
We says its ok and we puff away
Just the other night, I saw you, you were smokin not sharing and being tight
But thats ok, you are my friend, well smoking until the very end
The lessons that we put out, we order you to try it out
Its nice to smoke, yea thats what were all about
Smoking
Were smoking, were smoking the herb again
Were smoking, were smoking, were smoking the herb again
Were smoking, were smoking, were smoking the herb again
Were smoking, were smoking, were smoking the herb again
Hey, ho, hey ho, hey, ho, hey, ho, hey, ho, hey, ho
I smoke, you smoke, we smoke, they smoke, smoking everywhere
I smoke, you smoke, we smoke, they smoke, smoking all together
Smoking
Were smoking, were smoking the herb again
Were smoking, were smoking, were smoking the herb again
Were smoking, were smoking, were smoking the herb again
Were smoking, were smoking, were smoking the herb again

song performed by by Incubus
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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