The Turtle In Us...
a rabbit never
shames a
turtle,
for distance
is not
a tragedy,
it is the patient
persistence
that
wins,
it is not in fact
wisdom
neither speed
nor
perfect
frame
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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The Usual Story...
and then the problem comes
after the meeting of the
the turtle and the rabbit
after the winning and the losing
to each priority
the rabbit to the bushes
to the river the turtle goes
there is no saying that
after all, the warning is given
personally, the rabbit will
always remember
and so does the turtle
there is no point of reconciliation
the facts of life are here again
nothing to lose nothing to gain.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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The Turtle And The Rabbit Within
i was once a turtle
but i wish i were a rabbit
and then i become a rabbit
speeding my ways
to the ends of the world
and then i got so tired
and sit below the tree
watching the clouds
and then i wish i were a
turtle again
back to my home that i carry
anywhere
that is it: the home is where the heart is.
not the wood and the steel.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Consistency And Patience
if i were to draw you
a symbol of consistency and
patience
i will have the turtle
with moss on its house and
on its feet
some mud
i draw you too the silence
embedded in its eyes
i will show you how slowness sometimes
can be considered
wisdom
how sometimes it surrenders to nature
how it hides in its house
when cruelty begins to rule
and how at the end the impossible happens
it survives and wins and then goes back to the river
and swims away
and then it becomes a myth
a story and then you make it more intriguing
and that is where the rabbit enters into the scene
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Journey With Animals
Child: Lion, Lion, do you know
Where is your den?
Lion: Yes, I know
My den is straight to the jungle
Child: Deer, Deer, what you
Eat for dinner?
Deer: I eat grass,
Green grass
Child: Rabbit, Rabbit,
What do you do?
Rabbit: I jump and jump
Till my house reach
Child: Turtle, Turtle, when enemy comes
What you will do?
Turtle: I will keep my head
Inside the shell
Child: Thank you animal friends
For answering my questions.
--------
By: Sansita Ramachandran
poem by Sansita Ramachandran
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My Turtle Use to Rush!
You taught my turtle how to walk on a leash.
When you babysat my turtle.
But now my turtle's mood,
Has become distant and cranky.
My beloved turtle now gives me shifty looks.
And I know with me it's angry.
Since the babysitter I picked and booked.
When my turtle use to hear me turn the key,
At the front door.
My turtle use to rush to me.
But no more!
You've got my turtle trained to believe,
It needs a leash...
To eat with me Chinese.
And I use to love how my turtle ate Wonton.
But from within its shell...
All it does is just peek on.
When my turtle use to hear me turn the key,
At the front door.
My turtle use to rush to me.
But no more!
My turtle use to rush!
But!
No,
More!
My turtle use to rush!
But!
No,
More!
My turtle use to rush!
But!
No,
More to me.
My turtle use to rush!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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The Turtle And The Rabbit
you know the story
and i need not tell
it to you again
without necessarily
insulting your intelligence
(pause, chuckle, breathe
and wait
for your turn, let me continue)
but there is something you
still need to know
because i think you did not know it
their story did not really
end the way we were taught
with the ending
moral of the story
(don't raise your eyebrow
like the nike emblem
of the shoe,
relax, and you may
divert your attention,
as this is not important
anyway, but let me continue
still...)
well, this is it
the turtle is really a female
and the rabbit is a neuter
and know what?
(don't mind, this is still not important
you may read another poem
because this does not sound one
but let me continue
alone to say the usual ending
of this story...)
yes, the rabbit is a neuter
and the turtle is a female and
yes, they lived happily everafter!
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Edging My Way Up To Success
there is no instant success
you are not born successful
i am proud to say
i edge myself slowly
towards the platform
of success
the road was rough
the weather was not good
i did not have a carriage
and a horse
to make thing easier
for me
i was like a snail not
hoping for that gift of
speed from a rabbit
i learned from the
turtle somehow
reached the finishing line
much to their
surprise
i am a hardheaded man
who does not believe
in failures anymore.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Perfect Harmony
Perfect harmony, lets put it all together.
Every piece fits right.
But do we have the time.
Never enough, always wanted more.
Its Pandora's door.
Once its open i can never be closed.
So exposed.
Perfect harmony, the dominoes have be lined up.
One flick of the finger and watch them all fall,
all the hopes and dreams stolen by a perfect harmony.
Why does it have to be routine.
Why not a little chaos in the order.
That way when that person tries to destroy it.
It ends in failure.
You cant sink a ship that's already sinking.
Time to jump ship once again.
Perfect harmony creates a melody of tragedy.
Still we search for it.
Knowing we will lose it all again.
Cause soon or later you got lose.
In the end the house always wins.
Get out while the getting is good.
I really think you should.
Perfect harmony indefinitely.
Is there even such a reality.
Has the wind been forever knocked out of me.
I think not cause chaos is my order.
poem by Ace Of Black Hearts
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Master Tragedy
Out of the humid bonds entombing my shallow frame,
Stirs the mute memory of a former fame,
From beneath the tumbling leaves of a child's game,
Are exhaled the ethereal remains of my name.
Above the hollow echo of a rhythmic persistence,
Endures the faint glow of humane resistance,
From beneath the ages of the outworn distance,
Struggles the enshrouded beam of a forsaken brilliance.
Unseen behind the tremors of a peaceful symphony,
Is harbored the quiet vibrancy of a living melody,
Quickening into the hallow whisper of a forsworn fury,
Restoring the unshakable faith of a stillborn clarity.
Amid the shattered pieces of an unshared thought,
Slumber the sole fragments of a war well fought,
Poured into the beginnings of emotions unwrought,
The master tragedy spoken between 'is' and 'ought'.
poem by Jeremy Cahoon
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Homage
today i pay homage
to the turtle and for those like it
are too slow
for almost anything
its inability to cope up with the
arrogant and speedy rabbit
the subject of
too much mockery
in that snail-paced history
today i pay homage
to persistence and flexibility
to patience and stoicism
to faith that grows steadily within the hearts of every man
that respect for every block of brick
that makes the long winding gate of protection
that composes the great wall
of the house
for every step
that does the ways of master builder
though small and slow
yet still sure
today i pay homage for all the other
slow processes
of solitude
those quiet manners of the
grass and the leaves
the tender climb of the tendrils on the trellis of the fence
the steady flourishing of the
petals on the sepals of the
morning flower
today i pay homage to
those tiny green turtles anchored
quietly
beside the gleaming stone of the ancient pond
of our civilization
those sleepy eyes under the moon
full of wisdom
showered by the rain and sunshine of the ages
not rushing for anything
they are all here
undisturbed and thriving still
not hurting anyone
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Let Us Be Friendly With Everybody!
Rabbit and Tortoise
Went for a race;
Envy villain rabbit
Threw the stone at Hero Rabbit;
Hero Rabbit's leg got broken,
Limping Rabbit couldn't run fast!
Hero Rabbit lost the match,
This is how Tortoise won the race.
Lesson is, 'Don't have enmity'
Let us be friendly with everybody!
poem by V.K. Kanniappan
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Carrot before rabbit
Carrot gets value in front of a rabbit
And the rabbit wets its tongue, pursuing.
Once bitten, Carrot loses its value.
The distance generates value and saliva
Woman keeping men at an arm length values
24.03.2002, Pakd
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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Im A Lover Not A Fighter
Well I met a pretty girl, as pretty as can be
I thought she was my baby till she introduced to me
A great big tall fella, about six foot tall
I shivered and I shook, couldnt do any more
cause Im a lover not a fighter
Yes, Im a lover not a fighter
Yes, Im a lover not a fighter
And Im really built for speed
Built for speed
Well, some people think Im lazy but theres one thing they dont know
cause when Im in the mood I can go caddy[? ] go
cause Im a lover not a fighter
Yes, Im a lover not a fighter
Yes, Im a lover not a fighter
And Im really built for speed
Built for speed
Built for speed
Whoa yeah
Well I can roar like a lion, I can sting like a bee
But some times I think, baby, Ive got rabbit blood in me
cause Im a lover not a fighter
Yes, Im a lover not a fighter
Yes, Im a lover not a fighter
And Im really built for speed
Built for speed
Built for speed
Whoa yeah
song performed by by Kinks
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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If I Were A Turtle
if i were a turtle
and if you are a turtle too
how i wish to live with you
and be happy
and understand
our turtleness together
perhaps in a small pond
a small patch of marsh
a little rock
just for the two of us
but i am not a turtle
i am a man
but
i may still live with you
as a man
and take care of you
as a turtle
this is still the world
for us
in humanity
in turtleness together
why not?
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Open Road Song
Written by max collins
Tonight I feel ambitious and so does my foot as it sinks on the pedal
I press it to the floor
I dont need a girl dont need a friend cause my friend lonesomes
Unconditional
Were flying forever bored
And for a moment I love everything
That I see and think and feel
I love my broken side view mirror
Cause its so perfect
Im so perfect youre so perfect youre not here
I hear the change in gear
My pile shakes as I hit eighty on the open road
This is an open road song
The night is becokoning although I have nowhere to go but home
Feels good to be alone
With every turn comes a new frame of mind if I could frame my mind
Where would it hang
I crack a window and feel the cool air cleanse my every pore
As I pour my poor heart out
To a radio song thats patient and willing to listen
My volume drowns it out
But thats ok cause I sound better then him anyway any day
Yeah my voice is sweet as salt
I search for comfort and Ive found it where Ive found it many times before
Times before can be forgotten
song performed by by Eve 6
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The tragedy of life is not that man loses but that he almost wins.
About Brother Rabbit.
Brother Rabbit and Brother Terrapin wanted to run round a tree.
They went to Brother Bear and asked him to be the referee.
He said to Brother Terrapin, “You win if you’re the first to take the stone! ”
Brother Rabbit ran and won as Brother Terrapin could only go,
He cried, “Brother Rabbit has run, but has he really won?
Look here, my stone’s on me, so I’m number one! ”
When Brother Fox and Brother Rabbit meet,
Brother Fox always tries to eat
Brother Rabbit who often thinks how
To laugh at Brother Fox. Now
Brother Rabbit said, “Have we met, Brother? Hi! ”
“Oh! I haven’t had lunch”, Brother Fox replied.
“But when we yesterday met,
You also said that.
Poor Brother Fox had no lunch,
Then have for it grass or a branch”.
Brother Rabbit’s taught Brother Wolf a lesson.
He’s done it to amuse his little son.
Now, Brother Wolf’s in a cage.
Nothing he can change.
Yesterday he ate meat in a trap,
And Brother Rabbit didn’t let
Him run out, he locked him then,
He taught him and needn’t teach again.
poem by Konstantin Ananin
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Authority Song
They like to get you in a compromising position
They like to get you there and smille in your face
They think, theyre so cute when they got you in that condition
Well I think, its a total disgrace
Chorus:
I fight authority, authority always wins
I fight authority, authority always wins
I been doing it, since I was a young kid
Ive come out grinnin
I fight authority, authority always wins
So I call up my preacher
I say: gimme strenght for round 5
He said: you dont need no strength, you need to grow up, son
I said: growing up leads to growing old and then to dying,
And dying to me dont sound like all that much fun
Chorus:
I fight authority, authority always wins
I fight authority, authority always wins
I been doing it, since I was a young kid
Ive come out grinnin
I fight authority, authority always wins
I fight authority, authority always wins
I fight authority, authority always wins
I been doing it, since I was a young kid
Ive come out grinnin
I fight authority, authority always wins
Oh no
Oh no
I fight authority, authority always wins
Chorus:
I fight authority, authority always wins
I fight authority, authority always wins
I been doing it, since I was a young kid
Ive come out grinnin
I fight authority, authority always wins
I fight authority, authority always wins
I fight authority, authority always wins
I been doing it, since I was a young kid
Ive come out grinnin
I fight authority, authority always wins
song performed by by John Mellencamp
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Torch Bearers (extremely old) .
The storm wafted away to reveal the setting. A farmhouse painted abandoned in the wakes of the rooster in the early renaissance of spring. The sunlight hardly skimmed the surface of the horizon as it illuminated a raven’s silhouette. The bird had been through so many storms, so many hails of shotguns, and so many felines and motors that it appeared to be as ancient as the farmhouse itself. Like the falling down structure, it had patches of itself missing – torn away feathers, a chipped beak, and a wounded leg. One wing was winded and withering away, so much so that when it flew it was lopsided like a painting hung in an insensitive hurry. Despite all of this, it was alive. More alive, even, then it had ever felt in long-ago flights through the windiest of weather. And you could tell. You could see the vivacity in its sharp eyes; you could recognize the living wisdom before you even noticed the dilapidated wings.
It was perched atop a scarecrow’s decaying arm, contemplating what it would do now that the rabbit had gone. It was not exactly sure whereto it had disappeared, but it had left the sun looking so much brighter.
The raven was always watching that rabbit like a mother watches her child at a crowded amusement park, waiting for the rabbit to notice its watchful gaze. Harm was not in the bird’s mind. It was simply fascinated by the rabbit, wondering how it could hop so wonderfully fast when frightened, wishing it could feel the white fur that laced the rabbit’s back. But the rabbit, too engrossed in its own beauty and mysterious world, never noticed the raven. Sometimes it saw a black shadow out of the corner of its eye, and waved it off as hazardous – nothing it could eat – and decided to pay no heed to it. Finally the bird had been so weighed down by the wistful longing it felt that it needed to fulfill the desires it had to make contact with the breathtaking ears. It swooped down in a desperate rage, a bullet to a victim’s chest, desperately reaching out to caress the rabbit. Mistakenly terrified, the rabbit disappeared in a cloud of dirt, leaving the raven utterly bewildered and miserable as it collided with the ground like an atomic bomb.
For days it dozed in the dirt, dejected, angry at itself and the rabbit, swearing it would never become fascinated with another living thing again. One morning, as it croaked into the wind, a small figure appeared in the distance, its tiny fuzzy nose twitching as it carefully skipped along the field. The raven, forgetting all of its valuable promises to itself, lifted its head hopefully. Again, it admiringly stared at the oblivious rabbit, torturing itself little by little, until again, it soared in hopefulness, speeding towards the furry creature. This time the rabbit didn’t budge. It stared observantly at the raven, and sniffed the bird in acknowledgment. The raven was dumbfounded, and followed the rabbit around for weeks. The rabbit never paid much attention to it, yet the raven was blissful, stricken with an arrow that made it feel like it was floating somewhere in a dream.
During the angry toddler fit of a heavy rain, the rabbit had decided that it valued only its solitude, and that the raven, a decidedly pesky little thing, was becoming a nuisance. It turned around and bit the raven’s leg, forcefully, and ignorantly sped away. The raven was stranded in the throes of confusion. For months on end, it distanced itself from the rabbit, terrified to even approach it. It still watched yearningly from the stuffed scarecrow, dreaming of the day when the rabbit would finally accept it. The rabbit had plans of its own. No matter how the raven tried to approach it, the rabbit would reject the raven cruelly, and during those days that they spoke not to each other, it would hardly give a thought to the bird. These situations went on and off for months, but everything must change.
One morning the raven attended its usual post, and waited for the rabbit to do its morningly routine in the field. It had another scheme to lure the rabbit, and it was as determined as a soldier at war. But the rabbit never appeared. The raven was disorientated, but decided to reason with itself, certain that this would be a wonderful opportunity to forget its past mistakes. Though it knew the dangers of the surrounding highways, and the fact that maybe the rabbit had met with one of these perils, it worried not. After awhile, it began to find the pieces of its precedent self. It transformed back into the beautiful ebony bird it once was, no longer trying to be the rabbit it could never be. It was only fearful that the rabbit would return and once more steal its identity, but it tried not to think of this.
And so there it sat once more, looking out into the endless empty canola fields, still yearning for something that maybe one day it would find. At least now it knew to never pine for one who was ignorantly content with itself when it had never fully lived. It had had marvelously perfect fur, but it had never lived the thrill of escaping a cat’s chase. Its nose was in perfect structure, and yet it had not traveled great distances and spoke wisdoms to other creatures while learning new ones. It hopped in perfect composition and yet it had never escaped a creature’s biggest fear – man.
So the raven cawed in exquisite cadence and, somewhere in the distance, another raven replied in an equally perfect rhythm.
poem by Alison Rosalie
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Absolute Irony
'The universe
is a mysterious place',
the poet said.
'There might exist
other worlds wherein
the laws of nature
are different from ours.'
'No', the engineer said,
'in a vacuum
light travels at the speed
of 300,000 km per second
and nothing can move
faster than that.'
'Oh, absolute claims
are always
absolutely wrong',
the turtle said.
'But since this is
an absolute claim
it ought to be
wrong, too',
the engineer objected.
'Yes',
agreed the turtle,
'yet in being wrong
it is also
absolutely right.'
poem by Paul Hartal
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