The Unending Journey Does Not Know A Home
to the heart there is never a blank wall
the fences do not work
they always fail, the bulls of Manawan
are at it again, breaking free from the ranch
and going back to the Mountain
just as the sparrows that by chance entered
your room through an open window
though there were rice grains on that tray
soon shall fly away after every grain is consumed
the beasts and birds unlike you do not have a house
neither do they know of any home
so tell me, how can you understand a vagabond
mind like mine?
the bulls always want to break free
the birds migrate to distant lands
the whales inhabit no permanent ocean
every path is a passage
and if there are stops, they are just temporary resting stations
after a while
the journey takes everyone on their feet, their fins and wings
again....
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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A Lonely Bird On The Electric Wire
this afternoon i take a walk leading to the farm
it is harvest time
and i see the harvesters cutting the rice stalks filled with golden grains
they would group what they gather at a certain place
mounds and mounds of rice grains this time of a bumper year
on the other side are carabaos grazing
lots of grass to graze adding the recently cut rice stalks
i look at the clouds white and blue and shades of both
my attention is however caught by a single bird perched on the electrical wire connecting two poles about 30 meters apart
it is alone there
and i move closely to see whether it is really a bird
indeed it is one of the sparrows in the ricefield
but so unlike the rest it
it is sitting there alone.
our eyes met.
and i tell my wife about this lonely bird.
she says i am just making a metaphor
i sit alone in my garden now after dining
and i wonder if the bird flew back to its nest or to some territory of its own
where their species also live
and i wonder if the bird must be also telling the other birds that it saw
a man walking alone on that path leading to the farm
and unlike other men he prefers to walk alone
and i also think that perhaps the bird would also take issue about the fact that indeed
our eyes met
and i know the other birds would say
that it is nothing but also a sort of metaphor and to the least that
it is nothing but a kind of fable.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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My Dream Regarding The Two Beautiful Birds
i
how do you get to
hit two beautiful birds
with a single
stone?
ii
or how to make these two
beautiful birds to get to stay
beside my window sill?
iii
how do i make these two beautiful birds
happier?
shall i make a bird house on a tree
beside my house
and give them grains every morning of the day?
iv
how do i make this dream about two beautiful birds
into a reality? they keep on chirping inside my mind
wanting to be given the realistic form of wings
like some eyebrows
wings flapping just above my eyes
the mountains my cheeks
my mind the skies
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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I'm Free
I'm free
as free as the birds
as free as the clouds
as free as the wind.
I'm free to sing
even if my voice
is not like the voice of an angel
I'm free to dance
even if I'm out of the rhythm
I'm free to cry
even if it means to worry you
I'm free to laugh
even if my heart is aching
I'm free to love
even if it will only hurt me
I'm free to dream
even if I cannot reach it.
I'm free
as free as the birds
as free as the clouds
as free as the wind.
I'm free to be happy
even if I'm in the middle of crisis
I'm free to live
even if it will then
end in dying.
I'm free
as free as the birds
as free as the clouds
as free as the wind.
I'm free...
I'm free!
poem by Marites C. Cayetano
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Twelve Hours To London, But Backwards It's Better
the clouds crowd far beneath my feet;
but i—i’m distant! i wish she could see
the lands stretched free beside my wings;
better yet, i wish
she could stay and see me.
twelve hours to london and ten to parís,
but i—i’m reversing! back home where i'm free!
the skies become my heart’s soft, wisping-sigh dream:
by flashlight, I add
an eighteen, a three
poem by Antoine Lavoisier
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Amen, Amen...
for the few grains of rice that i have given you
and for the slice of fish,
God has given me more than what
i have parted,
God has given me a house, a rice granary,
a thousand loaves of bread,
an ocean of fish
plus a book of poems,
plus the nightingale songs
My heart sings praises for Him.
For every grain of rice that i have shared with a hungry neighbor,
God has replenished me with truckloads.
FOR THE FEW cents that i have given as fare for the old woman
who wishes to go home,
God has repaid me money in bundles.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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BREAKING THE DOOR OPEN (revised)
on that day when i lost the key
to the room
i waited for some solutions
perhaps i shall break the lock
or smash the door or remove the door jams
or climb on the other side of the house
and enter through the window
but my arms for breaking
are weaker now
my hands tremble at the thought
that once in my childhood
i did climb a wall and break open
the window
and was so badly beaten
that i could hardly stand and walk
back home
i keep on waiting for some solutions
until i realized that anyway
this is not my room of destiny
and there is nothing
in there that is worth my trouble
and so
not being that foolish enough
(or hopeless to say the least)
i simply walked away
with nothing on my shoulder to carry
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Bull Fighting
Bullfighting
Early morning on the flatland between Portugal and Seville a cockerel crews,
its hoarse wakeup call carries for miles. Vaqueros are already on the grassland
separating bulls form a herd; the bulls are five years old and have been chosen
for the bullfight. Within a week the selected bulls will be dead, slaughtered on
an arena of sawdust and sand, they have been allowed to roam free for years.
Most animals only live a few years, mostly in a pen, and never see grassland
before they are killed. How can meat eaters demonstrate, call for the abolition
of bullfighting? This sport, the only one, where an animal has a chance to kill its
assassin. I’m on a bus heading for Seville to see bullfighting, yes, I do admire bull
fighting; if lucky I might see one of the chosen bulls kills the toreador.
poem by Oskar Hansen
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Take A Chance On Me
(b. andersson / b. ulvaeus)
If you change your mind, Im the first in line.
Honey Im still free, take a chance on me.
If you need me, let me know, and Ill be around.
If youve got no place to go, when youre feeling down.
If youre all alone when the pretty birds have flown.
Honey Im still free, take a chance on me.
Gonna do my very best and it aint no lie.
If you put me to the test, if you let me try.
Take a chance on me. (come on, give me a break will ya? )
Take a chance on me.
We can go dancing, we can go walking,
As long as were together. (together)
Listen to some music, maybe just talking,
Get to know you better. (better)
cos you know Ive got so much that I wanna do,
When I dream Im alone with you.
Its magic!
You wanted to leave me there, afraid of a love affair,
But I think you know, that I cant let go.
If you change your mind, Im the first in line.
Honey Im still free, take a chance on me.
If you need me, let me know, and Ill be around.
If youve got no place to go, when youre feeling down.
(take a chance, take a chance, take a chance on me)
If youre all alone when the pretty birds have flown.
Honey Im still free, take a chance on me.
Gonna do my very best and it aint no lie.
If you put me to the test, if you let me try.
Take a chance on me. (thats all I ask of you honey)
Take a chance on me.
Oh you can take your time baby, Im in no hurry,
I know Im gonna get ya. (get ya)
You dont wanna hurt me, baby dont worry,
I aint gonna let ya. (let ya)
Let me tell you now: my love is strong enough
To last when things are rough.
Its magic!
You say that I waste my time, but I cant get you off my mind,
No I cant let go, cos I love you so.
Hopping in...
If you like what youre seeing take a chance with me, ya!
You wont be grabbed, if youre feeling horny.
Well, youve passes so you got to know this precious property.
I dont know the lads, so call me mc k.
Nobody sits, understand me clearly.
However hard he try, could he never own me.
We all fit nice and just move freely.
Special k, what he says all said carefully.
Me not sit all along and just wait by phone.
Not call me cause me never, never home ya.
Machinegun as we get the wrong one.
Master mark, master paul, mister luke and john,
If we like what we see we chance a situation.
Nothing dont pay nothing, maybe see what follow on.
What a jill may do if the right man come?
Hey reagge boat, come we just have a little fun!
Go now!
Pabbabbabba ba, pabbabbabbabba ba ba
Honey Im still free, take a chance on me.
Gonna do my very best and it aint no lie.
If you put me to the test, if you let me try.
(take a chance, take a chance, take a chance on me)
If youre all alone when the pretty birds have flown.
Honey Im still free, take a chance on me.
Gonna do my very best and it aint no lie.
If you put me to the test, if you let me try.
(take a chance, take a chance, take a chance on me)
Pabbabbabba ba, pabbabbabbabba ba ba
song performed by by Erasure
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Birds Are Returning Home
some birds who migrated last season
to places that i do not really know
come back to the yard of the house
with a new song as i feed them again
with the same rice grains and same
bland water from the old well.
and then i remember home, the family,
a brother, a foe, and my best friend.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Is It Free
Do you believe love is free
Have you not heard of the birds and the bees
Are you even listening to me
Nothing is free not even the air we breathe
Just wait there's a price tag you'll see
I use to think love was free
Until i received your invoice your finders fee
Lets go back way back to december
Your kidding me is that a far a you can remember
I thought i could trust but i'm not so sure
Give me your free love all that you can
I will keep for later you understand
So do you still believe
I'm going to have fun your easy to deceive
So keep your money and your time
But all that free love is mine
Maya
little brown birds with grey beaks and a patch of black
on their heads
three of them
drinking water on a pond of water created
by the little rain this morning
as i go near them
they all look at me and then in a sudden
they all fly away leaving some ripples in the
muddled pond
i never think of them as my enemies
they all leave at once
i do not have a gun
or a club or a slingshot
what i have in my hands are rice grains, nothing but rice grains
yes, rice grains for all of them
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Journey to Be
I think I'll journey out some day to wondrous lands afar,
Or even chart a journey to a distant blazing star.
But rest assured that when my journey begs to take its cue,
Always know that when I go, this journey takes you too.
We'll start our journey out from here by horse and cart of old,
The seaside docks - and journey pauses - where we shall behold
A noble schooner for the journey primed to launch as planned:
To sail with dolphins cross the seas then journey back on land.
And so our journey goes by foot to conquer mountains tall:
A chapter hence the journey reached, with scenes that should enthral.
But when we tire, let's rest our journey, stretched in fields of flowers,
And bathe atop the mountain from the journey - autumn showers!
Refreshed, our journey takes a turn - we'll venture back for home,
But first we'll let the journey take a tangent just to roam.
And in the winding route, this journey's bound to bide content,
But most of all take heed - let's make our journey life's event.
Copyright © Mark R Slaughter 2009
poem by Mark R Slaughter
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Inspired by Issa - Cycle of births
the cycle of births
from my hand, a pigeon pecks peas
grain by grain
inspired by
grains of rice
pecked by birds...
my futon
-Issa,1814
http: //cat.xula.edu/issa/
poem by John Tiong Chunghoo
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Free
Here as I sit in this lonely square
This train of thought runs through my mind
I like it best when the choice is mine
I want to be free to speak my mind
And if I cry I want no-one to be there (be there)
Free to do what I want to do
And you should share this freedom too
If I lie it must be for a reason
Weve come a long way now
Theres still a way to go
And still were moving onwards
For all that you might think we are innocent
Innocent people
We are free
Im working hard
Im looking for the week-end
Oh! my good god
How the work is hard
And when its down to getting home
We dont know what to do - do you
I hurry home
All the people seem to hurry
Dont push me on
I think for myself
We move as one
We like to keep it all together
I take it all
No problem at all
Im a page in the book
Oooh take a look
Im a part of the whole
All my body and soul
I want you to know Ive cried me a river
Why cant this taker change into a giver
Why cant I work it out
I want to be free
Free in what Im choosin
Free with no excuses
Free to see the people
And to move ooo! ooo! ooo!
Free to choose my lover
Free to choose my brother
Free to need another
And I do - I need you
Im having a ball
Im part of the wall
No-one sees me at all
Im asking for one dance
I know that there wont be a second chance
Theres no return
Im ready to burn
I think Ill never learn
Im looking for direction
What I need from you is real protection
Ive done my best
Ive failed the test
I dont care about the rest
Wont someone set me free
Free in what Im choosin
Free with no excuses
Free to see the people
And to move! ooo! ooo! ooo!
Free to choose my lover
Free to choose my brother
Free to need another
And I do - I need you
song performed by by Heaven 17
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The House Sparrows
The house sparrows in Spring under house eaves build their nests of hay
And renowned for their chirping they chirp all the day
In cypress and hedges from predators they hide
Familiar in gardens they are known Worldwide.
Brought to this Land by people from Lands far away
Around human dwellings they are happy to stay
Of shyness and lack of self confidence house sparrows are free
And on their worth or lack of worth some choose to disagree.
Originally from Africa of the weaver family
In gardens and Parklands them one often see
Familiar in their feathers of light gray and brown
They search for crumbs under the park benches in the parks of the Town.
The common house sparrows are birds everyone know
Familiar to gardens and to the hedgerow
Classified as songbirds though they don't have a song
They are famed as chirpers they chirp all day long.
poem by Francis Duggan
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Keeping The Hundred Healthy Bulls
in keeping a hundred healthy bulls
inside my chest
i keep my fences high and strong
but for how long?
the hundred healthy bulls
are kicking their hoofs
and hungrily breathing and dreaming
and soon
will be running
for how long?
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Love, We're Going Home Now
Love, we're going home now,
Where the vines clamber over the trellis:
Even before you, the summer will arrive,
On its honeysuckle feet, in your bedroom.
Our nomadic kisses wandered over all the world:
Armenia, dollop of disinterred honey:
Ceylon, green dove: and the YangTse with its old
Old patience, dividing the day from the night.
And now, dearest, we return, across the crackling sea
Like two blind birds to their wall,
To their nest in a distant spring:
Because love cannot always fly without resting,
Our lives return to the wall, to the rocks of the sea:
Our kisses head back home where they belong.
poem by Pablo Neruda
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The usual afternoon walk
Flying sparrows, worry they do not
About what to eat about what tomorrow
Shall be, God tells us, so that
We humans, his servants, his children,
His friends, need not worry too
We know that we are spoken of that
God’s love and goodness
He feeds the sparrows from the grains
Of this field, he makes them drink from
The rain, he gives them all the sweetness
From the fruits of the trees
He had given them limitless skies
Where they can all fly
He had given them nests
For them to call home in all the nights
And storms
I walk today on this path, after a hard day’s work
I like to think
Reassuring ideas as these
God’s love and kindness
I like to see
These birds flying again around me in this
Usual afternoon walk
When the sun is about to set
On these walling mountains
How wonderful to see this scenic view!
How good the feeling to see the sparrows again1
Though I cannot hold and touch them
The softness of their feathers
The agility of their small wings
The lightness of their bodies
Their quick soars and dives and light landings!
I guess. Now, I am also feeling fine
This light body, the small wings of my soul,
The flight of my thoughts, soaring and diving and lightly landing
to the hands of my God
In the twilight of these dusky skies.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Deleting The Day
Cry my tears to heaven
Please
let's just erase the day
I swear I'll never do it again
Never again
I'd say you could find my heart by the open river of my mind
But really
I hide behind grave stones
Beneath privacy fences
Lonely
Listening to
The Indigo Girls
Quiet affirmations of my yearning
I'm up above the winding
Pathways
Past the deaths of this century
Nestled in between 1870 and 1893
In the shade
Of this death escape
Replete with sorrow that binds me in time to memories
Of her
I am soft
I am not free
Amidst the need to be something
To feel something
To feel her…
I am not worthy
And yet I dream….
I can dream
I can wish
To loosen these chains
To be free
To find peace
I grasp these arms
And rock back and forth
Back and forth I rock
So I can endure this breaking
Oh my God, when will it end?
When will it end?
I ache
I break
And I break again
And again
poem by God Diaries
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The Birds
the birds, sparrows and robins
and some herons
are flying on the blue sky
you watch them
a robin comes near you
and makes a stare
the white heron glides
past your face and flies
away without much ado
a sparrow feeds on your palm
and after all the grains are
consumed it goes its way
north and finally the kingfisher
which is late tries to give
you its catch, a small fish.
you see the difference
and then you go south,
i mean, the difference,
towards another direction,
that one that gives and not
the one that takes,
the one that thinks about
others
and not more about oneself.
you are supposed to be that
a giver not a taker.
one bird has shown you
with a very small fish and
that was enough to feed
you in another long and lonely
journey: south.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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