The Mountain Of Malady
in the mountain of malady
the sharp fingernails of probity
on the hands of faith
dig the wells of whereto
time as usual is so patient
no stone is left unturned
layer by layer of fossilized moments
upturned and the quizzical look of
mercy continues to please
the stabs of light sometimes
hurt like murderous intent
but the quest has to continue
we all look for what is inside this
centuries of mysteries
time is cold. trees are felled.
it rains all night. the winds are angry.
at the bottom of it all beyond the thick layer
of lust and desire,
pain and betrayal, shame and fall?
what did you really find?
chunks of golden silence. platinum gaze.
diamond existence.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Related quotes
The Layers Of My Existence
peel me, not like an onion where you shall cry for every
layer, no, i do not require tears here, at most, you may need
only to smile, and then be so patient, as you peel me
layer by layer, as i watch, and as you carefully peel me
with your bare hands, i will allow it, all for you and your
curiousity,
you discover the erotic layer
and in there exists the desire
for an adventure, the disregarding
of sin, and then peel me further
move on,
find the layer of my
intellect, you shall find what i have
told you all about, my nerves and
common sense, my strivings to go
deeper towards my self, and then
peel me further, you see the bone
of my contentions, my hardened
principles and uncompromises
then peel me further, find the
marrow that makes all the blood
of my life, my sorrows and pains,
my exhilarations and bliss and
joys and happiness, and you will
say there is nothing more to find.
you are wrong. There is this last
peel that you cannot see. It is like
air, and it floats and it gets in,
it always finds an empty space,
and you cannot find it there anymore,
it is now inside you and you cannot
get that out of your system
you must accept this:
i have become
an essential part of you, and there is
nothing now that you can do.
you see, in peeling me, you find
no exit anymore. Whether you
you will be happy or sad, it is
already beyond my control.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Seeing a Clearer Me
layer by layer
i peel so that
like a glass
you can view me
crystal clear as a virgin river
a polished diamond
decades of
practice for those
seasoned fingers
to strike at her core
to bring out those few
beethoven scores
he tuned up the world for
a great watch maker
filing his cog to tighten time
the precision of mind
to keep a universal lie at bay
verse by verse
layer by layer
i peel to get to
the sheen the almighty
laid hidden in me
layer by layer
i peel off the world
to see a clearer me
poem by John Tiong Chunghoo
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Turbulence
layer upon layer
pounding out
justification,
charged and ready to strike,
cold winds blow,
bright rains ache
ready to flow.
poem by Steven Federle
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Peace Beyond Time
wolves run
in packs drinking moonlight,
flesh and blood,
hunger and desire!
i am the wolf,
i am the moonlight,
flesh and blood,
hunger and desire.
the hawk glides,
on the wind with eyes,
peeling layer upon layer
for pulsing treasure...
i am the hawk,
i am the wind,
peeling layer upon layer,
for pulsing treasure.
the river winds
through rocks and trees,
making it's own path,
on the way home.
i am the river,
rocks and trees,
making my own path
on the way home....
darkness falls,
wraps around the light,
brings healing stillness,
and peace beyond time.
i am the darkness,
wrapping around light,
i bring healing stillness,
and peace beyond time!
poem by Eric Cockrell
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Lasagna
this is lasagna
your favorite dish
at the bottom is
love
on the second layer
is regret
the fillings of
meaty lust and
spices of
hot desire and on the
top layer is this
pretense
one does not bite it
and then
you settle for hate
fuming madness
of love
unrequited
you wish the tongue
is dead
or the teeth of the
non-taker
crumple into
sand
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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84
my silence shall be
i find this in the forest of trees
long trees, shady, such that what you can see
are only shadows of leaves
and what you hear is only the sound of the wind
choked between tight walls,
this is my silence,
moist, and soft, between a growth of wild
ferns
rotten leaves heaps and heaps of
rotten leaves
layer after layer of rotten leaves
thick and pushed still to the roots
smashed to the ground
some seeds from the oaks
or maybe from the flowers of the orchids
or some sweet fruits and red berries fall
in there
and they begin to grow
rich as humus is this soil down
the darkness of this forest,
this is my silence
deep inside me
moist, rotten, but soon
lots shall grow
seeds turning into sprouts
to trees again
perhaps taller than ever
some fruits so sweet and colored and shiny
some flowers scented and so lovely,
this my silence
shall be, i am keeping it for years
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Dolce Far Niente
(sweet idleness)
in the near zero visibility
of a winter gaining its momentum
i felt as if i was the only walker
on this winter road
through the thick fog
that insulated me from
the world known and unknown
your desire for me touched me
lifting the fog
layer by layer...
08nov2009
14.44hrs
poem by Indira Babbellapati
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Faces and layers of faces
At first, this is the face I will show you
Shallow, thin, smooth
Then we feel each other, like some kind of
New found friends, I
Take another layer, and tell you, this is my face,
Some scars, and lines of age, and furrows,
Then we write many emails, and remember
Common things, like a certain familiarity,
Another layer is taken and exposed,
The face of a sick man, with some
Disappointments in his mind,
Some wounds, wrinkles, and so you
Think, are there other layers of faces still
To show,
Deeper, deeper is there another layer to show
Another face of this man?
Yes, there is another layer, more faces
Hidden underneath each layer,
As we go on, learning from ourselves,
And me learning from myself,
I will be digging for more faces,
Because I am never static
I am growing, and for each growth
Like molting
Another face comes out
Soon, I hope, I must come out
With the most beautiful face
The we can be both proud of,
It is just a matter of time
Depending on how well you have loved me.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Thirteen
At first, this is the face I will show you
Shallow, thin, smooth
Then we feel each other, like some kind of
New found friends, I
Take another layer, and tell you, this is my face,
Some scars, and lines of age, and furrows,
Then we write many emails, and remember
Common things, like a certain familiarity,
Another layer is taken and exposed,
The face of a sick man, with some
Disappointments in his mind,
Some wounds, wrinkles, and so you
Think, are there other layers of faces still
To show,
Deeper, deeper is there another layer to show
Another face of this man?
Yes, there is another layer, more faces
Hidden underneath each layer,
As we go on, learning from ourselves,
And me learning from myself,
I will be digging for more faces,
Because I am never static
I am growing, and for each growth
Like molting
Another face comes out
Soon, I hope, I must come out
With the most beautiful face
The we can be both proud of,
It is just a matter of time
Depending on how well you have loved me
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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My Silence Shall Be
i find this in the forest of trees
long trees, shady, such that what you can see
are only shadows of leaves
and what you hear is only the sound of the wind
choked between tight walls,
this is my silence,
moist, and soft, between a growth of wild
ferns
rotten leaves heaps and heaps of
rotten leaves
layer after layer of rotten leaves
thick and pushed still to the roots
smashed to the ground
some seeds from the oaks
or maybe from the flowers of the orchids
or some sweet fruits and red berries fall
in there
and they begin to grow
rich as humus is this soil down
the darkness of this forest,
this is my silence
deep inside me
moist, rotten, but soon
lots shall grow
seeds turning into sprouts
to trees again
perhaps taller than ever
some fruits so sweet and colored and shiny
some flowers scented and so lovely,
this my silence
shall be, i am keeping it for years
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Life is like an onion: you peel off layer after layer and then you find there is nothing in it.
quote by James Huneker
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Silence Wept
and I and I,
desire and death...
the garden of you,
and spider webbed dreams.
pine sap running, hot and molten,
my tongue rests...
inside your soul.
love me dammit,
or write me letters.
send them to
'destination unknown'!
buy a dress for my funeral,
a hat, and new shoes...
any color but black!
inside and inside,
peeling layer after layer.
conversation of sparrows,
struck mute by flesh.
you taste sweat of summer,
i am past late autumn.
the gods of time lied!
what if i wrote you a poem,
and silence wept?
would you hear the train,
and point to the sky?
would you pray for rain?
and listen for the sound...
of the knock on your innermost door!
poem by Eric Cockrell
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Stardust
sleeping with Rilke,
wrapped in the rain.
attaining the heights
and depths of smallness...
unfolding, unwrapping,
of such is living;
layer upon layer
we discover ourselves
in everything that breathes,
in clouds, trees bent with rain.
in the hollow of the wind
where all is stillness.....
in the ordinary, the common,
we find stardust in a bird's
abandoned nest, in a nail
on the side of the barn...
rusted with time
poem by Eric Cockrell
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Bouquet
Come in the evening,
on the lake.
Together we will watch
the sunset.
Some unsung lines have been left
on our lips.
Some fractured smiles,
and some unwashed tears,
on the misty cheeks.
Sadness was stuck
in our reddened eyes.
Layer by layer
I want to wipe it.
A song, a reed, I will arrange
in a bouquet
in the name of redundant past
holding the unblemished time.
Come, when it is dark
in the night.
Together we will watch
the moonrise.
poem by Satish Verma
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N4
my theory lives thru
as you have said it: these are all lies
lies and more lies
and you know them all to be lies,
but as you said it,
you begin to understand the truth
beneath these lies
a layer of grass
another layer of flowers
another layer of clouds
beneath is the niche
burying the nuggets of
my own wisdom, how i live my life
and justify it later
before God, shall all lies be
truths
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Meanings...
scattered
practically (hmm probably)
thoughts are
like dry, yellow, leaves
already unsure
from which twig did it
come from
no one asks about
the history of a leaf
no one
there are too many of them
meant either to be
blown away, buried upon their
own kind,
layer upon layer,
rotting upon one another
or simply just to be burned
heaps of them
turning into smoke
phantoms against
the rains of
dark skies
we are leaves
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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scatter layer
by layer, eight-layered
cherry blossoms!
haiku by Masaoki Shiki
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Onion Skin Disguise
Layer after layer to peel off
Issues, that no longer serve
“No not I”….you may scoff
Then get what you deserve
ROTMS
poem by Ray Lucero
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At the center of each human heart is goodness, layered over with hurt, confusion, and mistaken ideas. Our task is to gently peel off layer after layer until the unfettered heart can shed its love upon the world.
Sue Patton Thoele in The Courage To Be Yourself Journal
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Layer by layer art strips life bare.
quote by Robert Musil
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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