En.Citatepedia^®.ro

The Power Of Repetitions

repetitions, you say are
reinforcements, a promise that
there shall be no forgetting between the stalk and the leaf
once upon a tree.

there is this river that runs through us
and i am at the other side of the bank
you do not see me
alone, am i as usual without the song

i gaze upon the leaf and the stalk
i cut across barks
i rub the knife and sculpt the pain
reshaping it for something so practical and
useful
like a statue of the town god
that i everyday
worship purposely to erase the pain
to numb the nerves

of my being, alone, am i,
in the repetitions, i have learned how to live
and then scribble

on those surfaces
debarked and cleaned.

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The relation of repetitions for learning and for repeating English stanzas needs no amplification. These were learned by heart on the first day with less than half of the repetitions necessary for the shortest of the syllable series.

quote by Hermann Ebbinghaus
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Leaf

to a non-poet a leaf is just a leaf
and when it falls
on the ground, there is nothing but a
fall

but to us who claim this art
a leaf is not just a leaf
but it can be you or i
falling and when i reach the ground
you feel the heart of the leaf
beating

for its falling, its failure as a leaf,
its surrender to a certain death
its claiming a portion of this earth
to rest and be part of this
world, it rots, and it speaks some line
before it rots

a poem, a valediction on an anthill,
an eulogy of the other leaves that
fell before the great falling

it can be a story of humanity written
on the lines of its face, it will have flesh
on its layers, some mouths on its
seams, and it will tell too

about the tree where it comes from
how the clouds drifted so close to its stalk
how the sun kissed it on top of everything

a leaf is a world. just as a poem is.
we live inside it. Through it. Even
outside it. Even in circles.

we make understanding so complicated.
yet we are so simple as you see us.

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Pain is a plenty harried thing

Pain is a plenty harried thing,
It too is in plentiful pain.
Pain too prays for reprieve from the Lord,
It too wishes for a merciful end;
Pain has pained itself with the painful realization,
That it is the root of the cause of the source of all pain;
That is why pain is a plenty harried thing,
For it too is in plentiful pain.

Pain is a plenty harried thing,
It too hopes that the morrow starts at leisure
And that maybe it could rise (one day) from within itself
And become its prodigal brother: Pleasure.
We blame pain, we hate pain but we all go seeking it,
Pain doesn’t stalk us, we stalk pain;
If it wasn’t for us, Pain would yet be an unknown hermit,
For it too is in plentiful pain.

Pain is a plenty harried thing,
It too gazes into the stars and watches the days go by without reform;
Pain grieves for the pain it feels deep inside,
Pain too struggles against exploit and harm.
Pain is the seedling of the plant of the tree,
Of Life, which is nothing without this pain;
And I do not crave Pain and it does not crave me,
For it too is in plentiful pain.

poem by Samah Khan
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Pain runs through my body

Pain runs through my body, and I don't need anymore.
Pain runs through my body, so leave me alone you whore.
Pain runs through my blood, as I start to bleed.
Pain runs through my body, and love is what I need.
Pain runs through my body, everyday of my life.
Pain runs through my body, as I pick up the knife.
Pain runs through my body, as I put it through my chest.
Pain runs through my body and I think you know the rest.

poem by Ari Castillo
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Lonely Leaf

Lonely leaf
trembles
at the feeble moment

It's on the verge of falling
It's about to merge with limitless nature!

Air is guest to leaf once
now will become constant companion

Bond with tree
soon will be abandoned

The moment came
parting is always pain
fighting against time is invain
finally tree says farewell to the leaf

Now leaf realises boundless 'freedom'
It's floating like free bird
It is 'gone with the wind'

Leaf lost it's green colour
wearing pale colour
Colour hardly matters!
Leaf sings song of freedom

Bond with tree is bound
Feeling freedom is ecstasy abound

poem by Mula Veereswara Rao
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No One Steps Twice On The River Of Life...

it is not the rage of this river.
when i was a child, as mother says,
i keep my finger inside my mouth
sucked by my throat, to keep hunger away
beside the bank of this river

i am the spectator
and the river believes in the magic
of my innocence
it flows always in a distant
affection,

it is not the rage of the river,
it is i, the grown up man who goes swimming
in the river and feel
the joys of its cool waters
always moving on towards
a destination
it is the swimming with a friend
and then
with a lover and then with a wife
and then my silence,

what we do not have we force to forget
it is the bathing in the river
the rinsing and the cleansing of the waters
it is not the rage of this river

and then we become too weak to be in this river
the river moves on and on
towards the deepest sea looking for the
opening

i wait by the bank of this river
many things have been missed
the more important ones
the one that gives the posterity of
my humanity
it is denied of me because of this river
that gives me nothing

all the while i was the leaf that fell off from
the tree
on the side of this river
and i floated because i have nothing to do
because i can do nothing about
the flow of the river
i become the dead leaf that the air
rides upon
tossed and bumped on boulders
till i sink
deep down the river
that i shall pass only once.

time.

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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A Dead Leaf

between these two shores
i float like a dead leaf
am not dead either..
if i was i will not feel the pain

budded flowered and became a fruit
on one shore
eaten and as a bare stray seed laid
at the other shore

as a seed i did germinate
the mother root grew into a tree
an off spring flower and fruit came by
all along as a seed i thought i was the tree itself

I NEVER THOUGHT I WILL LOOSE
MY IDENTITY AS A SEED
CAN A TREE SHOW ITS SEED
EVEN IF IT WANTS TO

ALL ALONG...

I thought i was the tree itself
may be i was a part of each part
the stem to hold, the leaf to nourish
till fate wind blew me down as a dead leaf

today as a dead leaf i float
wanting a living from one shore
wanting relationship from the other
as a dead leaf i float..am not dead with pain

ALL ALONG....
I DID THINK I WAS THE TREE ITSELF
BEING JUST A SEED

poem by Samanyan Lakshminarayanan
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Sea Poppies

Amber husk
fluted with gold,
fruit on the sand
marked with a rich grain,

treasure
spilled near the shrub-pines
to bleach on the boulders:

your stalk has caught root
among wet pebbles
and drift flung by the sea
and grated shells
and split conch-shells.

Beautiful, wide-spread,
fire upon leaf,
what meadow yields
so fragrant a leaf
as your bright leaf?

poem by Hilda Doolittle
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A New leaf

There’s a new leaf upon the Tree
A thousand, thousand have been before
In the life of this great tree
Yet, the Tree rejoices, and is glad
For there is a New Leaf upon the tree

The roots are deep, and hidden
Tis one tree from root to branch
And lives in and through each leaf
The hearts’ smile resurrected
Through the New leaf upon the tree

Like the stars of heaven
New leaves have been many
And so they all are One
For they all share the same root
Bless the New leaf upon the tree

Perfection in the Blessing
Joy released in tears of love
The strength in life will comfort
From root to God above
A New leaf upon the tree

Beauty, Truth, and life
Complete from root to branch
When life’s cycle turns
Leaves fall to nourish roots
And behold, a New leaf upon the tree

poem by Adrian Wait
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A Leaf Fell In Gaza

Death
is a leaf
torn from the tree
no one feels the pain
of the leaf
swept by the rain
to the sea.

poem by Vince Gullaci
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Family Tree

There's love within our family tree
and happiness abound.
Its roots are deeply planted
in rich and fertile ground.

We enjoy the rays of sunlight
and endure the winds and rain,
and when a leaf falls from our tree,
together we share the pain.

God gave us earthly families
and never did intend,
that bonds of love built on Earth
upon our death should end.

For when our life is over
and from earth our souls will flee,
one by one, leaf by leaf,
He'll rejoin our family tree.

poem by Ron Tranmer
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Elegy On The Death Of A Church Mouse

‘Colonel Gaddafi is dead; long live Gaddafi’,
- whose words those are?

don’t shoot, don’t shoot,
enough blood is spilled!
Gaddafi,
a leaf from the tree is dead;

leaf sprouts, leaf eats, leaf sleeps in the sky,
leaf waves the world in the cheer of palm,
makes no sand out of storm,
no beating themselves by the horse drain,
no hanging noose by the cock’s strain.

Leaf feeds the tree with green
when upon it’s tender face, the horrid-sun shine,
leaf, bearer of flower, bearer of seed,
never the taster of the sap from earth
till drops dead in the paleness of red,

‘don't shoot, don't shoot,
upon the sand is blood,
for the Colonel is dead’,
said, the tree,

and said, ‘Long live Gaddafi!

poem by Saranyan Bee
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It Is About The Entire Performance

It is highly unlikely...
But,
Nothing is impossible...
That a leaf,
Connected to a twig or a branch...
Of a rooted tree,
Would not have a clue...
How it is associated with the process,
Of life.

Or...
That it accepts it has nothing to do with it at all.

However...
Attempts to deceive the other leaves,
They too are equally independent.
And can do what they wish...
With this being totally ignored,
By the Earth from which it feeds!
It is unlikely that a leaf would be that selfish.
But...
I BET it gets the point,
When that tree begins to give it signals...
Its leeching days,
Are not permanently attached.
And that leaf has to go!

And the Earth,
In agreement AND with approval given...
Knows WHO runs the show!
It is not about the part the leaf plays in the act.
It is about the entire performance that is important.
AND...
Has only ONE director.

'Some' leaves get this!
However,
Many do not.

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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A Realization Of Two Things

a bud is better
seen on top of its stalk

even when it has
already bloomed
completely

it is still nicer to
see the flower stuck
on its stalk

even if it has already
wilted
it is still nicer to see
it on its stalk

even when the stalk is gone
the flower is still there

and it is nicer still
to imagine it

untouched by any human
hand
only nature
only nature has the power
to take it

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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The Room

Through that window—all else being extinct
Except itself and me—I saw the struggle
Of darkness against darkness. Within the room
It turned and turned, dived downward. Then I saw
How order might—if chaos wished—become:
And saw the darkness crush upon itself,
Contracting powerfully; it was as if
It killed itself, slowly: and with much pain.
Pain. The scene was pain, and nothing but pain.
What else, when chaos draws all forces inward
To shape a single leaf? . . .
For the leaf came
Alone and shining in the empty room;
After a while the twig shot downward from it;
And from the twig a bough; and then the trunk,
Massive and coarse; and last the one black root.
The black root cracked the walls. Boughs burst
the window:
The great tree took possession.
Tree of trees!
Remember (when time comes) how chaos died
To shape the shining leaf. Then turn, have courage,
Wrap arms and roots together, be convulsed
With grief, and bring back chaos out of shape.
I will be watching then as I watch now.
I will praise darkness now, but then the leaf.

poem by Conrad Potter Aiken
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Ars Poetica

HOW CAN i tell you something that i do not want to tell you?
how can i let you hear my voice without me uttering a single syllable?
how can i tell you know what i feel and yet
deep within my heart, i wish you do not know a single pulse
of blood in my veins?
HOw can i be so loving to you, and yet show you that i do not care at all?
How can i be in so much pain and then
you do not feel the salt of my tears?
How can i say and yet say not?
How can i be myself and be without you on my side?
how can a snail be a snail without a leaf to stay upon?
HOw can i pretend to be a cloud and you
my leaf, my flower
as nothing but a land without a river?
how can i be so confused amidst the certainties of my life?
this luxury in poverty? This pain covered with white icing?
this sweetness deep within
the lumps of sorrow?
understand and not understand at the same time?
to go and to stay.
to live and yet die.

only through this.
this narrow door where an elephant
has entered.

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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A Leaf Has Fallen

A leaf has fallen on the ground,
Beliefs have solutions that astound;
Every tree that believed in its wood
Shall learn pain from the heavenly adulthood.

A leaf has fallen on the ground,
Solutions do stem from what is around;
All the flowers give messages in the air,
Their overly beautiful appearance is anywhere.

A leaf has escaped from the branches of a tree
As the wind blows on the older apples carefully;
Their sweetness is called ripeness,
It is the quality of happiness.

poem by Naveed Akram
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Regrets

Some plague like dreams recurring
Throbbing pain of repetitions
That nag the mind in varied notions -
Those regrets.

poem by Cynthia Buhain-Baello
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Brown And Furry

Brown and furry
Caterpillar in a hurry,
Take your walk
To the shady leaf, or stalk,
Or what not,
Which may be the chosen spot.
No toad spy you,
Hovering bird of prey pass by you;
Spin and die,
To live again a butterfly.

poem by Christina Georgina Rossetti
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Tree Of Dreams

My mind is a tree of growing dreams
It seems like it produces more each day
But with every day that passes
There is also a forgotten one
When you add all the forgotten ones
you get a tree that is dry
A tree with many rings
but with one leaf
One green leaf that appears
every day but also dries up
when the next day comes
When a tree only has one leaf
no one really looks at it
It is a tree with no ambition
A tree with only one dream
No one wants a tree with one dream
especially if it is never fulfilled

poem by Cokbod Lodwogo
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