They Are All Here With You
jalousie windows
shut up like a woman
finally stopping to
speak and
nag
a little blue fan keeps
giving you air
you breathe
you think
you exclude and include
you deduce and induce
apostrophies. and commas.
you take the freedom
of syllabication.
something is wrong
in this house and
we are not talking.
a bonsai plant
on top of your table.
a cell phone on a silent mode.
the letters on the keyboard and your fingers
make love.
a poem is born.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
Cell Phone Mania
Cell phones to the right,
Cell phones to the left,
Cell phones, cell phones,
everywhere I look.
Red alert, stop! Listen,
shut up and drive,
shut up and read,
Cell phones, why so many.
Everyone talking,
cell phones in cars,
cell phones in bars,
eating places, cell phones.
There you can't escape
from them, you say
to yourself, the restroom,
no one would dare
use cell phone in there,
oh no, I hear someone,
talking to me, I answer them,
oh, sorry sir, did not know you
were on cell phone.
Oh, so many,
shut up, and walk.
Do away with cell phones,
and it would be like,
the crash of '29'.
People need cell phones,
sometimes their nice,
to have, but so many,
cell phones, might
as well join them
if you can't lick 'em,
join them.
Cell phone, cell phone
now how do I use this
thing, oh cell phone, cell phone,
Hello, Hello, oh that's
you mert.
wrote 1-19-07
Stress less society
Freedom to speak must include
Freedom not to speak.
Freedom to love must include
Freedom to ignore.
Freedom to marry must include
Freedom to divorce.
Freedom to go to either pole,
Or both the poles or in between.
Then only could the humanity
Live in a society without stress.
16.04.2006
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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The Love That You Can Offer To The Broken Woman
you see this broken woman
outside the house outside the fence finally
under the noonday sun
she walks without an umbrella
looking forward to another day
on weary feet
she takes the path that carries her
to her freedom
i wrote a poem last night
and i knew she was able to read it
i did not see whether her hands tremble
but she asked me
if i have this kind of love to offer
to make her live to make her dream
she is free now and in truth
i do not really know what i have
everything i have is in the house
and there is a woman there
who owns the letters of my name
who keeps the key
to the door that is locked
and she says
i am chained there and she brags that i am
the willing victim
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Contemporary Freedom
I am who I am
Because of what I am
I ask for freedom from love
I ask for freedom from slavery
I ask for freedom from hunger
I ask for freedom from desire
You know and I know
That not all seeds you sow
Will eventually grow
This is contemporary poem
Seeking for freedom with my pen
I read there was an old man
Who bade farewell to his only son
At the hands of his own gun
Where his actions contemporary?
Was his anger or concern temporary?
This is contemporary poem
Seeking for freedom with my pen
Vivid imagination leads to frustration
It could trigger a chain-reaction
Hence the concept of mass-killing
Is born out of an over-reacted feeling
There is no cure or process of healing
Once death is the meal we are dealing
This is contemporary poem
Seeking for freedom with my pen
We drink with intention to forget
We drink but later on regret
And the people are walking
And the people are talking
Talking about freedom, freedom
Talking about a heavenly kingdom
Talking about their great grandfathers and their moms
Talking about freedom in any shape or form
This is contemporary poem
Seeking for freedom with my pen
And it does not make any sense
Why we always speak first in defense
And it does not make any sense
Why our passion for life despite the struggle is immense
We crave for human heroes
Those who started from zero
Their brave tales flows tremendously
So our fertile hope elongates endlessly
So when you tell a lie
Look your victim deep in the eye
Penetrate their mind
Find out what you can find
Because freedom is a lie
Because freedom is a lie
This is contemporary poem
Seeking for freedom with my pen
Copyright 2007 - Sylvia Chidi
poem by Sylvia Chidi
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What You Lack Is The Simplicity Of Reality
my hands on the keyboard
on ten fingers
my eyes do not look for the letters
the letters find
me, i am amazed by this kind
of arrangement
on the simplicity of reality having
a life of its own
letters like bees having a cell
of its own
syllables having a mouth
speaking about what they can do
in a poem
i take this matter lightly
there is no rush
this is not a matter of life and death
but merely a way of letting time pass
beyond our
boundaries
i give in to what is beyond me
i empty myself of its contents
the mouth of my bottle
sings of emptiness
this is the simplicity of reality
it speaks
about nothing.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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438
To Choose Between A
Hot Breakfast Ready On The Table
And Finishing Another Poem
I Choose The Breakfast
Together With My Wife
This Poem Can Be Suspended
In Time
And Become Another Unfinished
Act Of Creation
By A Man Wanting To Fill This
World With Poems
After A While
When I Have My Fill And When
I Make Some Nice Conversations With My Wife
And My Dog Beside The Table
Looking At Me
For A Piece Of Fried Pork
When The Sipping Of Coffee Is Over
When I Finally Wipe My
Chin With The Sky Blue Napkin
When I Consider
Eating As Finally Over
As Promised
I Will Come Back Again
And Finish This Poem
And There Is Something
Nice In This
Act Of Creation
You Feel It
It Is Warm Like The Hand Of
A Beautiful Woman
It Is As Hot As Ever
Like This Wanton Desire
Lovely,
As Lovely As You Love Each Letter
Of The Word
Of Your Poetry
I Am Feeling It In The Bone
Of My Soul
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Poem In A Trance
we are bored, we are like nails
we may forgive ourselves and be silent snails
eking our way out through our own fluids
we somehow fall short of the words
and in our bed we look away like strangers
i thought we can make a poem together
the one about love and
freedom
what we have instead are black birds pecking
on our wooden windows
red ants in a parade of their pheromones
looking for an empire beneath our dreams
we are lost when we finally covered our faces
with the blanket
and when you finally switched off the light
on our common headboard.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Breakfast Is Ready
(7: 45 in the morning)
to choose between a
hot breakfast ready on the table
and finishing another poem
i choose the breakfast
together with my wife
this poem can be suspended
in time
and become another unfinished
act of creation
by a man wanting to fill this
world with poems
after a while
when i have my fill and when
i make some nice conversations with my wife
and my dog beside the table
looking at me
for a piece of fried pork
when the sipping of coffee is over
when i finally wipe my
chin with the sky blue napkin
when i consider
eating as finally over
as promised
i will come back again
and finish this poem
and there is something
nice in this
act of creation
you feel it
it is warm like the hand of
a beautiful woman
it is as hot as ever
like this wanton desire
lovely,
as lovely as you love each letter
of the word
of your poetry
i am feeling it in the bone
of my soul
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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You are talking to a man who can only play a plastic keyboard. Give me anything weighted and I've had it. I haven't got the strength in my fingers to push them down. So I don't get a lot of expression on the keyboard.
Sorry, Wrong Number
Those handy little Cell phones have changed
They do things now that can enthrall.
They play music, games and take pictures too
They can even make a phone call.
And if voice mail is not enough
You can type a text that‘s wordy
By using the little keyboard
That’s much too small but QWERTY.
With all of the things Cell phones can do
There’s just one thing I am berating.
It is what this little device has done,
For the wonderful word of dating.
When on a first time dinner date
And her Cell phone rings
It can be a harbinger
Of what the future brings.
Depending on her reaction
You’ll soon find out your fate.
Whether it will be an early evening
Or you’ll be getting home very late.
This is a human application
That can cause one to burn.
But, better than going to the ladies room
With her never to return.
poem by Edward Iacona
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The difference between talking on your cell phone while driving and speaking with a passenger is huge. The person on the other end of the cell phone is chattering away, oblivious.
quote by Marilyn vos Savant
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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1STP KLOSR ( One Step Closer )
Break...
I'm about to break!
I need room to breathe... (x3)
I cannot take this anymore
Saying everything Ive said before
All these words, they make no sense
I found bliss in ignorance
Less I hear, the less you say
But you'll find that out anyway
I find the answers aren't so clear
Wish I could find a way to disappear
All these thoughts, they make no sense
I found bliss in ignorance
Nothing seems to go away
Over and over again (x5)
Just like before...
Everything you say to me
And I'm about to break!
I need a little room to breathe
I'm about to break!
Everything you say to me
And I'm about to break!
I need a little room to breathe
And I'm about to break!
Break!
These are the places where I can't feel
Torn from my body, my flesh it heals
During this ride we can cut up what we like
Waiting alone I can not resist
Feeling this hate I have never missed
Please someone give me a reason to rip off my face
Blood is a pouring and pouring and pouring..
Shut up when I'm talking to you!
Shut up! (blood is pouring)
Shut up! (blood is pouring)
Shut up! (blood is pouring)
Shut up when I'm talking to you!
Shut up! (blood is pouring)
Shut up! (blood is pouring)
Shut up! (blood is pouring)
Shut up! Im about to break!
Everything you say to me
And I'm about to break
I need a little room to breathe
I'm about to break
Everything you say to me
And I'm about to break
I need a little room to breathe
And Im about to..
Everything you say to me
Takes me one step closer to the edge
And I'm about to break
I need a little room to breathe
Cause I'm one step closer to the edge
And I'm about to break
Everything you say to me
Takes me one step closer to the edge
And I'm about to break
I need a little room to breathe
Cause I'm one step closer to the edge
And I'm about to..
song performed by by Linkin Park
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Swollen (Final Chapter)
they talked throught the night
as the candle burned down, exchanging
the stories of their lives.
then finally, they just sat in the stillness,
listening to the walls of the old house
breathe.
he thought about his life, the work, the
family, the love... all gone.
she whispered, 'be still, they're coming...'
the lights of the cruiser inched up the
street. stopping, they shone a light into
the old house, like fingers probing.
they sat motionless, afraid to move..
finally, they moved on.
'they'll be back, someone's called...' she
began to cry.
he sat up and dug in his pocket. pulling
out a wadded up old black and white photo,
he straightened it out, taking out a fifty
dollar bill.
'i want you to have it... when they go to chasing
me, take the baby, and run...'
before she could say anything, he was up and
out the door.
he crouched in the bushes at the end of the drive.
when he saw the cruiser coming, he stood up and
let out a whoop. he took off running as fast as he
could go, trying to put distance between them and
the old house
when they finally cornered him, one street over, he
put up a struggle. as they beat him to the ground
with their batons, he imagined he could see the lights
of a car going down the street. it was the last thing
he ever remembered!
poem by Eric Cockrell
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Just When The Rain Stops
just when the rain stops
something within you stops too
the misery of being
confined in the small prison of
your thoughts
you find a window
and this wide door and you grope
for the key
to open something closed
days ago
you breathe the sea breeze
and take some salt of
life and you
release your sighs like
an earned ire
you take freedom finally
letting go your fingers and hands
your feet dance
go, go, go
your books on the table make the
cheering squad
out there
nature wants to be read
the books close finally
their pages like tongues
hide behind the thick glossy
hardbound cover
you are not a fool finally
touching the maps drawn
by the falling rain
welcome to the world
the trees tell you.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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A dog with phone
Cell phone
Calling
At my home...
Click to
Speak my dog...
I am asking for dog
How r u?
My dog say
Waa...!
you eat well?
Wooo...
You sleep well?
Wow...wowwww...
Ok... good night my sweety...!
Waaa...dog say to
Cut the cell phone...!
poem by Otteri Selvakumar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Renda Writer - The Other Line
I saw a man
Fishing
Off the side of the pier
Fishing for a fish
And then...
His cell phone rang
He picked it up
And began talking
Cell phone in one hand
Fishing pole in the other
And then...
The tip of his pole
Started bending
He got a bite
And then...
He said
To the person on the phone
'Let me call you back,
I've got someone on the other line'
poem by Renda Writer
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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A Chat With A Lady Lawyer Invisible On The Other Line
u online? (no answer)
i know you're on line (no answer, deadma)
how u been? busy? how is your new house?
and your kids? and your husband?
(he left you or u junked him?)
he left you, ok, he left you,
and don't bother asking,
i am not asking, (but i am interested
because i may say, he is my friend
at least once in those summer seminars
in physics,1980, long time ago, when
i really think he is straight and religious
and well composed, and calm and
cautious, but you finally revealed, he's on drugs
left you for a woman not of your level
or caliber, but enough with pain,
and misery, i will shift to oher things)
and how is your career? making more money
with your university research and writing
and lawyering at the same time,
coping up with motherhood, and other
important matters in your life?
you snobbed me, and you told me
when i ask you if you know this lady judge
who is married to a school mate and you
said you know her, and you do not want to
be disturbed as your boyfriend is with you
and having a good time on that time of the
day,
and you think i believe you? shall i swallow you hook, line and sinker?
i like to, but i don't really, you are just
mad about life, and you finally shut your mouth
hide in a shell, keep your fences high, and
declare to the world, this manifesto, that you are not talking
to anybody,
to include me, and i perfectly understand,
and so here i am talking to myself, because
you prefer to be invisible, suffer alone and
have more time, to think, to be yourself,
and just be plain woman of the soul and body,
looking for openings
somewhere, to be free, to be honest, in the pursuit of happiness.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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[My Little Green Plant]
I have a plant in my house.
Not a tree a shrub ore a shrew.
But a plant.
It's green and red and sparkle blue.
Healthy clean and sticky like glue.
Bold beautifully and fragrant to.
My little green plant, how I love you.
I love my plant all stretched out high.
When it's flowers open it reveals a surprise
Just imagine it as you close you're eyes.
My little green plant, always on my mind.
My plant is thirsty it needs special care.
Nutrients and light, without it would die.
Like a child growing up ill always be there.
12 weeks to grow, and not a care.
3 feed tall and producing air.
My little green plant with little red hairs.
The time has come that I must say good by,
my little green plant has grown up right.
I'll trim it nice and hold on tight,
my little green plant makes me happiest tonight.
I'll sow the seed and sign the deed,
my little green plants one hell of a weed.
Come on now people get your minds out of the gutter..... I'm just talking about sage! :)
poem by Seth Morrow
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A Peaceful Day
they say i am a sad man
living in a mournful house
with no one
the windows look
like stooping eyelids
the door like the backbone
of an old woman with
osteoporosis
the wall are blank like
a blackboard with nothing to say
those who visit my place
feel the loneliness of the air
as though someone is recently buried
when you come back to the house
and do nothing but gaze
at the bleakness of the hours
i am confident about my
existence
and i tell them
that they are all wrong about me
i like this day
with no one around me
It is the most peaceful
day i ever had.
i feel so rested like a
man sleeping on a rocking chair
while watching a Love Story
with the sound in the Off mode.
i am contemplating on the sounds of
the footsteps of the souls
of those who had long departed
most interestingly of those who
want to stay
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Burn All The Letters
I am sorry that I set my sights
On the things I read
Something meant for your husband
Maybe you left it under the bed
Once upon a love those words blew free and secret
The pages lay around
Drifted to the hands of the publisher
And the greedy generations on down
Burn all the letters
(someone is always watching)
The governments on the phone
(whether openly or secretly)
Burn all the letters
(now breathe life)
Send them on
(into your story)
To a safer home
(I said burn it to secrecy)
Burn all the letters
Brand them in you before you go
Soldiers are coming to plunder
But there are some things they will never know
We made our love out of dignity
Dug our nails in the dirt
(hung our towel soaked souls out on the line)
Hung our towel soaked souls out on the line
We loved so hard that it hurt
To ease my pain I took a pen and paper
Incarnate came the bleeding
Send it back before the public eye
Perverts it in the reading
And burn all the letters
(someone is always watching)
Ah the governments on the phone
(whether openly or secretly)
Burn all the letters
(now breathe life)
Send them on back
(into your story)
To a safer home
(I said burn it to secrecy)
Burn all the letters
Brand them in you before you go
The soldiers coming to plunder
But there are some things they will never know
Burn all the letters
Ah the governments on the phone
On the phone
Burn all the letters
(all the letters)
Send them on to a safer home
(send them on to a safer home)
Burn all the letters
To you
And you to
To me
Coming to take what they can
They cannot read
What they cannot see
Mmm
song performed by by Indigo Girls
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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