The Free Restless Spirit
there are people ahead of us
and who enjoy their own fame who like to teach us
how to make frames
that there are desired shapes of words
with their own colors and tones
and like light we ought to mix them
to their own
precise delight
when i was new i had always been clumsy
because i always want to think like them
each hour i command my hands to take their
own shapes of fingers
there are always desired sizes and colors and tones
and for years
i have lived in so much restraint that i finally discern
that i am not free
because i must live the way i ought to be like by them
too suffocating
like i am covering my head with
a helmet
so as not to harm myself
from their preconceived accidents
my voice thinned out and my hands
became moles
then too tired to take their commands
i escaped
into the mountains
and i learned the language of the birds and the trees
the songs of the wind and wilderness
my arms become rivers and my feet mountains
my hair the forest and my eyes the sun and moon
my breath is the wind
this is what freedom does
this is the fruit restlessness
this is the poem that you are reading now.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Colors Of Life
See the colors of life
The colors of dreams
The colors of life
Wherever you go
Wherever you may go
Trust in hope, trust in your real friends
Planet colors alive, you hold it in your hands
Realize you have to open your eyes
And Ive learned everything has always two sides
You're not alone
The world is one family
You're not alone
Find your way to be free
You're not alone
Love is the hope to survive
You're not alone
See the colors of life
See the colors of life
See the colors of life
See the colors of dreams
They are wild and free
See the colors around
See the colors around
The colors you have found
See the colors of life
See the colors of life
The colors of dreams
The colors of life
The colors of life
The colors of dreams
The colors of life
There's a land, there's a place in your heart
Tolerance is the key to make a better start
I've been waiting for my lessons of life
And I've learned everything has always two sides
song performed by by DJ Bobo
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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354
reedom
what shape is freedom?
a flicker
on the candle in the dark night
the wind blows
and the flicker moves anywhere
the wind goes
freedom?
the strong wind puts the light out
on a single blow
freedom?
the candle knows how to make its own flame
and lets go some of its melting matter
freely flowing its own body
consuming itself
down the drain
to its foot
like tears
the molten drops slide
and solidify
taking some shapes
misconceived
unassigned by us
freedom?
the freedom to take our own shapes
the freedom to consume ourselves
the freedom to be finally
extinguished
freedom.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Are You Willing To Pay The Price?
there are two houses
two distant islands
on one island there are only two colors
black and white
nothing in between
no shades, no hues
no compromises of
blending
it is a hard, disciplined structure
where rocks are rocks
same shapes, same weight, same burdens
on the other hand the other island is
full of colors,
it is like law being let go
into freedom
call it a rainbow where pots of gold are found
where seemingly everything goes on and on
but with
responsibility
the trees grow leaves of different
colors and
striations and shapes
it is surprising
it happens
the rocks there move
like living heads of mushrooms
the rivers sometimes take their rest
freezing cold
and hard and then turning into mobile water again
singing
there is no bridge between this two
no connection
nothing familiar about each
but i live in both
i know the secret path
and if you want to know it
let me ask: are you willing to pay the price?
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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The Death Papers.... (Part Two)
i, the body
of earth and wind,
cry for the mountains,
the valleys, and rivers.
i am man,
the warrior naked,
muscled dark and lean.
with eyes borrowed from the hawk,
and hands that turn the ground.
i bear the feet of time determined,
the marks of the whip scar my back.
with hardened phallus,
and panting breath,
i follow the trail of the wolves.
i am woman,
the warrior naked,
long hair swept by the wind.
with eyes borrowed from the owl,
and hands skilled in healing.
i bear the feet of time determined,
the scar of the chains on my wrists.
breasts born with fire,
garden wet with hungry birth,
i am the trail the wolves follow!
and now,
i, the body
lay down my cross,
seed in the furrow,
sunlight waiting
for darkness's goodbye kiss.
for i, the body,
am earth and wind....
mountains, valleys,
and rivers cry for me!
poem by Eric Cockrell
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West Of The Moon
Words and music by bob seger
Out on those trails
Out neath that sky
Rivers of old
Still rushing by
Eagles still soar
White mountains loom
Down in those valleys
West of the moon
West of the stars
Far from the chase
Far from the crowds
Far from the pace
Horses run free
Winter comes soon
Out by those mountains
West of the moon
And everywhere
Everywhere
Wild things are free
Free in the wind and the sun
Everywhere
Everywhere
As it should be
Left on their own while they run
Out by those mountains
West of the moon
song performed by by Bob Seger
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Life
Life, betwixt birth ‘n death
Choices determine fate
From first to dying breath
Finish Earth, we graduate
“Behold I Make All Things New”
New realms to explore;
New colors, shapes, sizes
New paradigm, metaphor
New, yet unclaimed prizes
Infinite God, Infinite Wisdom
Teach us love, light, altruism
ROTMS
poem by Ray Lucero
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Family
It’s…..
Like a group of words
In mythical poem
When it’s hummed
It becomes a song
Or it’s…
Like spring flowers
In a verdant field
Through the rhythm
Of their colors
You can savor them
From the wind
Or it’s….
Like a flock of birds
On a cloudy afternoon
Exploring over the rainbow
How its colors glow
But….
The portraits on the wall
In their gold-plated frames
Is what family means to all
poem by Efren Petalver Carranza
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In That Place...
arriving there
we begin to change
we shed off
all shreds
all colors of expectations
we have learned
that we do not really need
the rainbow
neither its tail end
nor its bridge
we are met with the
substance
of having to hold on to
a horizon
without sun
the weight of
nothing
that gives no odor
that bears
no weight even
that of a feather
when we ask
how come that despite everything
the growing and blooming
there is still
the quintessence of an
existence
we are only embraced by those
incomplete arms
hands without fingers
face without eyes
yet somehow we are amazed
it is the face that sees everything
it is the arms that is warmer
without those fingers
with all the feelings of wants
we have become less of what we are
when we have shed
everything like all the leaves of those trees
we have met the essence of space
the comfort of the wind
the soothing silence
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Wild Montana Skies
(john denver)
He was born in the bitteroot valley in the early morning rain
Wild geese over the water, heading north and home again
Bringin a warm wind from the south, bringin
The first taste of the spring
His mother took him to her breast and softly she did sing:
Oh, montana, give this child a home
Give him the love of a good family and a woman of his own
Give him a fire in his heart, give him a light in his eyes
Give him the wild wind for a brother and the wild montana skies
His mother died that summer and he never learned to cry
He never knew his father and he never did ask why
He never knew the answers that would make an easy way
But he learned to know the wilderness and to be a man that way
His mothers brother took him in to his family and his home
Gave him a hand that he could lean on and a strength to call his own
And he learned to be a farmer and he learned to love the land
And he learned to read the seasons and he learned to make a stand
On the eve of his 21st birthday, he set out on his own
He was 30 years and runnin when he found his way back home
Ridin a storm across the mountains and an achin in his heart
Said he came to turn the pages and to make a brand new start
Now he never told the story of the time that he was gone
Some say he was a lawyer, some say he was a john
There was something in the city that he said he couldnt breathe
There was something in the country that he said he couldnt leave
Now some say he was crazy and some are glad hes gone
But some of us will miss him and well try to carry on
Giving a voice to the forest, giving a voice to the dawn
Giving a voice to the wilderness and the land that he lived on
song performed by by Emmylou Harris
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Wild Montana Skies (feat. John Denver)
(John Denver)
He was born in the Bitteroot Valley in the early morning rain
Wild geese over the water, heading north and home again
Bringin' a warm wind from the south, bringin'
the first taste of the spring
His mother took him to her breast and softly she did sing:
Oh, Montana, give this child a home
Give him the love of a good family and a woman of his own
Give him a fire in his heart, give him a light in his eyes
Give him the wild wind for a brother and the wild Montana skies
His mother died that summer and he never learned to cry
He never knew his father and he never did ask why
He never knew the answers that would make an easy way
But he learned to know the wilderness and to be a man that way
His mother's brother took him in to his family and his home
Gave him a hand that he could lean on and a strength to call his own
And he learned to be a farmer and he learned to love the land
And he learned to read the seasons and he learned to make a stand
On the eve of his 21st birthday, he set out on his own
He was 30 years and runnin' when he found his way back home
Ridin' a storm across the mountains and an achin' in his heart
Said he came to turn the pages and to make a brand new start
Now he never told the story of the time that he was gone
Some say he was a lawyer, some say he was a john
There was something in the city that he said he couldn't breathe
There was something in the country that he said he couldn't leave
Now some say he was crazy and some are glad he's gone
But some of us will miss him and we'll try to carry on
Giving a voice to the forest, giving a voice to the dawn
Giving a voice to the wilderness and the land that he lived on
song performed by by Emmylou Harris
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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First Ray of Sun
First ray of sun
Travels to the earth
From high skies
Light of day begins to shine
Sun rises slowly, far in the sky
Goes higher and higher
As time trickles
Mountains are the first
To see the rising beauty
Sky is full with rainbow colors
Dark shades of night
Not to be seen
Every heart sighs in relief
Fills with joy when sees the light
Light and colors inspires every life,
Give a meaning to love and desire
Birds keep chirping
Wind keeps flowing
Mist is lost with the advent of heat
Evaporates to the sky above
Leaves on trees
Make a gentle sound
Their rumbling and mumbling
Make their presence felt all around
Thoughts of life
Keep coming to my mind
Touching the heart endless times
Beauty of nature
Brings words in my mind
I wish every soul to feel and hear
What I think?
Mountains and rivers never complain
Gentle breeze keeps on blowing
Mist is lost with the advent of heat
Evaporates to the sky above
Leaves on trees make a gentle sound
Their rumbling and mumbling
Make their presence felt all around
A full bright day has just begun
Cheering every face on the earth alike
Nature is the gift of god to mankind
I wish every life enjoys it fully
poem by Nirantar Dr.Rajendra Tela
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Wild Montana Skies
This song appears on nine albums, and was first released on the its about time album, and has also been released on the greatest hits vol 3, changes, the very best of john denver (double cd),
Ry classics, the country roads collection and the rocky mountain collection albums. a live version also appears on the wildlife concert and the best of john denver live albums.
He was born in the bitterroot valley in the early morning rain
Wild geese over the water headin north and home again
Bringin a warm wind from the south
Bringin the first taste of the spring
His mother took him to her breast and softly she did sing
Oh montana, give this child a home
Give him the love of a good family and a woman of his own
Give him a fire in his heart, give him a light in his eyes
Give him the wild wind for a brother and the wild montana skies
His mother died that summer and he never learned to cry
He never knew his father and he never did ask why
He never knew the answers that would make an easy way
But he learned to know the wilderness and to be a man that way
His mothers brother took him in to family and his home
Gave him a hand that he could lean on and a strength to call his own
And he learned to be a farmer and he learned to love the land
And he learned to read the seasons and he learned to make a stand
Oh montana, give this child a home
Give him the love of a good family and a woman of his own
Give him a fire in his heart, give him a light in his eyes
Give him the wild wind for a brother and the wild montana skies
On the eve of his 21st birthday he set out on his own
He was 30 years and runnin when he found his way back home
Ridin a storm across the mountains and an aching in his heart
Said he came to turn the pages and to make a brand new start
Now he never told a story of the time that he was gone
Some say he was a lawyer, some say he was a john
There was somethin in the city that he said he couldnt breathe
And there was somethin in the country that he said he couldnt leave
Oh montana, give this child a home
Give him the love of a good family and a woman of his own
Give him a fire in his heart, give him a light in his eyes
Give him the wild wind for a brother and the wild montana skies
Now some say he was crazy and theyre glad that he is gone
But some of us miss him and well try to carry on
Giving a voice to the forest, giving a voice to the dawn
Giving a voice to the wilderness and the land that he lived on
Oh montana, give this child a home
Give him the love of a good family and a woman of his own
Give him a fire in his heart, give him a light in his eyes
Give him the wild wind for a brother and the wild montana skies
Oh montana, give this child a home
Give him the love of a good family and a woman of his own
Give him a fire in his heart, give him a light in his eyes
Give him the wild wind for a brother and the wild montana skies
Words and music by john denver
song performed by by John Denver
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Through Your Hands
You were dreamin
On a park bench
bout a broad highway somewhere
When the music from the carillon
Seemed to hurl your heart out there
Past the scientific darkness
Past the fireflies that float
To an angel bending down
To wrap you in his warmest coat
And you ask
What am I not doing
He says
Your voice cannot command
In time you will move mountains
And it will come through your hands
Still you argue for an option
Still you angle for your case
Like you wouldnt know a burning bush
If it blew up in your face
Yeah, we scheme about the future
And we dream about the past
When just a simple reaching out
Might build a bridge that lasts
And you ask
What am I not doing
He says
Your voice cannot command
In time you will move mountains
And it will come through your hands
Through your hands
So whatever your hands find to do
You must do with all your heart
There are thoughts enough
To blow mens minds
And tear great worlds apart
Theres a healing touch to find you
On that broad highway somewhere
To lift you high
As music flyin
Through the angels hair
Dont ask what you are not doing
Because your voice cannot command
In time we will move mountains
And it will come through your hands
song performed by by Don Henley
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Colors Of The Wind
You think you own whatever land you land on
The earth is just a dead thing you can claim
But I know evry rock and tree and creature
Has a life, has a spirit, has a name
You think the only people who are people
Are the people who look and think like you
But if you walk the footsteps of a stranger
Youll learn things you never knew you never knew
Have you ever heard the wolf cry to the blue corn moon
Or asked the grinning bobcat why he grinned ?
Can you sing with all the voices of the mountain ?
Can you paint with all the colors of the wind ?
Can you paint with all the colors of the wind ?
Come run the hidden pine trails of the forest
Come taste the sun-sweet berries of the earth
Come roll in all the riches all around you
And for once, never wonder what theyre worth
The rainstorm and the river are my brothers
The heron and the otter are my friends
In a cirle, in a hoop that never ends
Have you ever heard the wolf cry to the blue corn moon
Or let the eagle tell you there hes been
Can you sing with all the voices of the mountain ?
Can you paint with all the colors of the wind ?
Can you paint with all the colors of the wind ?
How high does the sycamore grow ?
If you cut it down, then youll never know
And youll never hear the wolf cry to the blue corn moon
For whether we are white or copper-skinned
We just sing with all the voices of the mountain
Need to paint with all the colors of the wind
You can own the earth and still
All youll own is earth until
You can paint with all colors of the wind
song performed by by Vanessa Williams
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Leaves
The theme of this poem is leaves;
Beautiful lateral structures
that dress the deciduous trees;
ephemerals one can’t ignore.
We first set eyes on them as green,
Protuberates on limbs in spring;
Next we see them as indigenes-
Transpirational living things
with various shapes and sizes.
I myself favor the maples
Their many metamorphoses:
various colors one beholds
in late summer and early fall
their greatest splendor above all.
poem by Albert Ahearn
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The Fight For Freedom
There's a sound it┬┤s heard across the land
It's heard across the sea
You'll only hear it if you listen with your heart
And one day hope to be free
To hear the sound of freedom many gave their lives
They fought for you and me
Those memories will always live inside us
Now it's our time to be free
Where the eagles fly I will soon be there
If you want to come along with me my friend
Say the words and you'll be free
From the mountains to the sea
We'll fight for freedom again
So ring out loud for all the world to hear
From sea to shining sea
Let freedom ring and every man be king
To live as one through the years
Where the eagles fly I will soon be there
If you want to come along with me my friend
Say the words and you'll be free
From the mountains to the sea
We'll fight for freedom again
Now┬┤s the time we all must stand together
So raise your hands show them we are strong
Side by side the fight goes on forever
Marching to the battle with this song
Where the eagles fly I will soon be there
If you want to come along with me my friend
Say the words and you'll be free
From the mountains to the sea
We'll fight for freedom again
song performed by by Manowar from Warriors Of The World
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Picture Of Colors
A picture of colors
A purple forest of colors
A balloon of colors
A blue fantasy of colors
This is what our planet should be
A whirlwind of colors
A white world of colors
A resting place of colors
A red hideaway of colors
This is what it should look like
A ‘yes' world of colors
A yellow rainbow of colors
A graced hill of colors
A green meadow of colors
An overflowing basket of colors
An orange bowl of colors
This would be a perfect place
All Of The Babies, They Can Feel the World; That's Why They Cry
the ancients could find
comfort in meaning
in paradox and irony
but they didn't know a thing
outside the primal workings
of a manifest god
found in circles and trees
rivers
sunsets
unmovable mountains
the ability to rely
solely on blistered hands
and soft kisses
I can hear a bird sing
as the wind makes all the leaves
in a forest shiver
with a single breath
it's beautiful
but it doesn't mean a thing
to me
my soft hands are as blind
as my hardened lips are numb
to such will
poem by Wes Thompson
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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
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notes from Sergs....
we were there for on simple purpose
to pay homage to two dead bodies of lovers caught in the tightness of the mountain trail
an accident
while the mass was going on for hour we were seated on a bench
facing the high mountains filled with trees
it is a green world ahead of us
i am amazed. You were talking about the idiosyncrasies of other people
the important people who lost dignity in the name of lust, er love
perhaps for the benefit of the doubt
in truth i do not care
i have holes in my cheeks, i have falling hair
i am losing youth to the stupidity of time
it cannot just be a ' tear in the cheek of time'
it must be something else
i have my ears to your rumors
my eyes move somewhere else to the majesty of the mountains
my hands to the sweet coolness of the air
i cannot keep those words
this time you are a friend by
accident. I begin not to understand you because there is so much
beauty in those high mountains
until we parted.It is sad, we have nothing to share
nothing to speak about with so much interest.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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