They Are Waiting
let us not be defeated by
silly matters
those that make boats sink
that swallow souls
of men
into the deepest crevices
of hell
we are not destined to be losers
sing again: we are the champions
float for a while
while the ports are not visible
to the eye
sight the better destinations
islands teeming with coconut trees
white sand beaches
look out there
there they are the dancing ladies
clad in yellow
soft and slender
they're waving their hands
to embrace us
neophytes of love....
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Related quotes
We Are The Champions (feat. Anastacia And Cast)
I've paid my dues
Time after time
I've done my sentence
But committed no crime
And bad mistakes
I've made a few
I've had my share of sand kicked in my face
But I've come through
We are the champions - my friends
And we'll keep on fighting till the end
We are the champions
We are the champions
No time for losers
'cause we are the champions -
of the world
I've taken my bows
And my curtain calls
You brought me fame and fortune
and everything that goes with it -
I thank you all
But it's been no bed of roses
No pleasure cruise
I consider it a challenge before the whole human race
and I ain't gonna lose
We are the champions - my friends
And we'll keep on fighting till the end
We are the champions
We are the champions
No time for losers
'cause we are the champions -
of the world
We are the champions - my friends
And we'll keep on fighting till the end
We are the champions
We are the champions
No time for losers
'cause we are the champions
song performed by by Queen
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I Like That Idea
i like the idea of what boats are meant for
i told you once
boats are meant to sail
far to the sea
and dissolve in the horizon
till they are gone
till they sink
to the bottom of the sea
and kiss its floor
and become the
permanent ornaments
of the corrals and sands
but i like your idea too
of boats
like mine sailing to the farthest sea
of boats like yours
that come back and embrace again
the welcoming arms
of the ports and the shores
and hear the sounds
of men and women
and children
all rejoicing
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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When He Is Lost Hecan Be Everything To Anyone
he accepts everything and everyone
anywhere and whatever
when he does not know what to do with his life
he can be in any religion
with any person a lover a friend an enemy
or a stranger
in any place be it in the plains or valleys
or oceans and nooks
he can be a slave or master or
cook or shaman or even a woman
whatever that the other does to him
will always be acceptable
he is the sea that takes everything
the boats that float and arrive at certain ports
and those that sink
and forever forgotten
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Arriving At The Island... Alone
the boat takes you to the island
the only person there
is you,
the coconut trees rise to the sky
and the white sand spreads
there is a bed
and blanket
and pillow and the glass of wind
and you embrace the body of the sea
and they
who think that you better be left alone
as you like it
have long left everything there
and you put your body down
clothes on the white sands
skin on the tree
and bones under the rocky shorelines
you close your eyes
and begin to fly away
into the abyss of
solitude.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Nothing Even Matters
Now the skies could fall
Not even if my boss should call
The world it seems so very small
'Cause nothing even matters at all
Nothing even matters
Nothing even matters at all
Nothing even matters
Nothing even matters at all
See I don't need no alcohol
Your love makes me feel ten feet tall
Without it I'd go through withdrawal
'Cause nothing even matters at all
Nothing even matters
Nothing even matters at all
Nothing even matters
Nothing even matters at all
These buildings could drift out to sea
Some natural catastrophe
Still there's no place I'd rather be
'Cause nothing even matters to me
Nothing even matters
Nothing even matters to me
Nothing even matters
Nothing even matters to me
You're part of my identity
I sometimes have the tendency
To look at you religiously
'Cause nothing even matters to me
Nothing even matters
Nothing even matters to me
Nothing even matters
Nothing even matters to me
Now you won't find me at no store
I have no time for manicures
With you it's never either or
'Cause nothing even matters no more
Nothing even matters
Nothing even matters no more
Nothing even matters
Nothing even matters no more
Now my team could score
And make it to the Final Four
Just repossess my 4x4
'Cause nothing even matters no more
Nothing even matters
Nothing even matters no more
Nothing even matters
Nothing even matters no more
song performed by by Lauryn Hill from The Miseducation Of Lauryn Hill
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Relatively Speaking
This song was first released on the seasons of the heart album. it is the only album it has been released on.
Relatively speaking you make me who I am
I need you exactly like the ocean needs the land
I need you like the sunshine needs the shadows and the night
I need you the way love needs the savage hurtful fight
Relatively speaking Im nothing without you
You are where Ive been before you are where Im going to
You are living out my dreams and you are all my fears
You evoke my laughter, you unleash every tear
The rich ones need the poor ones
The blind need those with sight
Sinners need the pure of heart
The black ones need the white
Relatively speaking the contrast make sit go
Every action taken is related in the flow
Stars and losers, kings and fools go dancing hand in hand
Relatively speaking you make me who I am
Relatively speaking the contrast make sit go
Every action taken is related in the flow
Stars and losers, kings and fools go dancing hand in hand
Relatively speaking you make me who I am
Who I am
Words by arthur hancock
Music by john denver
song performed by by John Denver
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Fog Horn and Bow Bell
January of thirty first in sea it was,
when we routed to new parallel lines,
your hoarse voice told me from brines,
to be careful of the Southern stars.
Three demons danced on dead wood,
and we joined them drinking the grog,
I heard your voice warning me in fog,
a Northern wind was beating the hood.
We danced with death's hove in sight,
his ghostly vessel sailed in distance,
we laughed with our apt contrivance,
-and kept illuminated our dead lights.
Dunnages creaked, and then I heard
your eerie voice to express a verdict,
our vessel's crew may leave derelict,
and embark in boats to be deferred.
I heard the reef rock tearing the bilge,
she heeled to starboard, cut across,
destined to lie on sand and sea moss.
with our souls around her to effulge.
We flied that night like on roadsted,
dancing and drinking our way to hell,
you heard our fog horn and bow bell,
signal from mists that we were dead?
poem by Giorgio Veneto
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Dance of love III
When I look into your eyes I can see myself,
Our relationship seems to be indestructible.
I give myself to you and I become a part of you
And there's nothing around here to me that matters.
We are together and explore our universe in unity
Because together we can really make it happen.
You're just everything to me, we are one being,
I cannot imagine the earth without you.
When you penetrate me I become another being,
You take everything from me and give me everything,
You take everything that I am and give yourself to me,
We love each other so much, we feel like exploding.
It is a connection between our hearts and souls and bodies
We dance our laughter, our tears, we dance our madness.
Two to one heart, two to one soul, dancing in rhythm with stars,
Dance is deeper, more intricately intertwined, the impetus of our passion
Ecstatic moments and rumbles of our minds and our souls,
We swallow each other, more deep and deep more, it is madness.
We understand the naturally flowing rhythm of our existence,
We kiss with hate and love every part of our molecular structure.
We understand each other and our bodies language,
I can not stay without you very long or live without you,
Especially at night when you love me and get me in trance.
We are two souls dancing the love dance in the same body.
poem by Marieta Maglas
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A Stalemate
I do not give thanks to the hands that feed me
I work for those
Hands anyway
Writing his letters
His own contents
Not to my delight
I love somebody else, her hands are soft
Her thoughts so graceful
Touching me
Penetrating the deepest recesses of my brain
My soul jumps with joy
To the sight of her,
She eats me, I am half-consumed yet I
Sing of her
Kiss her all day
Yet what does she give me?
This death unto myself,
The hands that feed me caress me to no end
Helping me live, I understand this kindness perfectly
How I wish to love the feeding hands
How I wish to reeducate myself & learn to live on these hands
I am hardheaded, as always thinking about her all day all night long.
The heart has its own foolish reasons, while the feeding hands
Are patient, and silent, understanding my true longings.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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It Is Not The Port That Matters Now
we are boats
born with rudders
and paddles cast
out to sea,
we are never
destined to
stay in ports
we are designed
to sail on high seas
to conquer storms
to be out on some
horizons to be lost
and dissolve in
distances to be
somewhere
always somewhere
until we are
nowhere to be found
it is not the port
that gives us glory
it is not the trade
of gold and spices
it is not the breaking
of champagne bottles
that proclaims our
greatness
behold, it is
not the unsinkability
of ourselves
in truth it is the
final drowning
of our captains
the submerging
ofour bodies
to the deepest of
the trenches where
we abstract the
real essence of
this journey
poem by Antonio Liao
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Paper Boats
Day by day I float my paper boats one by one down the running
stream.
In bid black letters I write my name on them and the name of
the village where I live.
I hope that someone in some strange land will find them and
know who I am.
I load my little boats with shiuli flower from our garden, and
hope that these blooms of the dawn will be carried safely to land
in the night.
I launch my paper boats and look up into the sky and see the
little clouds setting thee white bulging sails.
I know not what playmate of mine in the sky sends them down
the air to race with my boats!
When night comes I bury my face in my arms and dream that my
paper boats float on and on under the midnight stars.
The fairies of sleep are sailing in them, and the lading ins
their baskets full of dreams.
poem by Rabindranath Tagore
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The Exile
The swallow with summer
Will wing o'er the seas,
The wind that I sigh to
Will visit thy trees.
The ship that it hastens
Thy ports will contain,
But me!—I must never
See England again!
There's many that weep there,
But one weeps alone,
For the tears that are falling
So far from her own;
So far from thy own, love,
We know not our pain;
If death is between us,
Or only the main.
When the white cloud reclines
On the verge of the sea,
I fancy the white cliffs,
And dream upon thee;
But the cloud spreads its wings
To the blue heav'n and flies.
We never shall meet, love,
Except in the skies!
poem by Thomas Hood
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All I Want For Christmas Is A Real Good Tan
Ooooh, don't you think it's a pretty good plan
All I want for Christmas is a real good tan
All I want for Christmas is a real good tan
Take me to the islands
Put my feet in the sand
Rockin' to and fro with the rhythm of the ocean
Singin' silent night with the palm trees a blowin'
Ooooh, don't you think it's a pretty good plan
All I want for Christmas is a real good tan
Well if you're thinkin' bout gettin' me a present this year
Let me put a bug in your cute little ear
How about two tickets to a tropical show
Where we don't have to wear these winter clothes anymore
Instead of turkey we'll have mahi mahi grillin'
And pina colodas in the blender chillin'
All I want for Christmas is a real good tan
Take me to the islands
Put my feet in the sand
Singin' silent night with the palm trees a blowin'
Ooooh, don't you think it's a pretty good plan
All I want for Christmas is a real good tan
Well everybody's prayin' for a Christmas so white
Come to think about it that would be alright
As long as there is sand nor snow on the ground
And everyday our skin gets a little more brown
We'll string some lights in a coconut tree
I'll rub some oil on you and you can rub some on me
All I want for Christmas is a real good tan
I can see us baby on the beach hand in hand
Rockin' to and fro with the rhythm of the ocean
Baby whats you say you and me we'll be goin'
Ooooh, I can almost feel my toes in the sand
All I want for Christmas is a real good tan
And don't worry baby we'll celebrate plenty
I'll buy you some shades a brand new bikini
We won't have to worry about the holiday rush
It'll be you and me fallen' deeper in love
Ooooh, don't you think it's a pretty good plan
All I want for Christmas is a real good tan
All I want for Christmas is a real good tan
song performed by by Kenny Chesney
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Spring Song
SING out and be happy!
The Spring is at hand,
The grass green, and sappy
The trees o' the land.
Sing! for the breeze is
Rustling and silky,
And toys with and teases
Long blossoms and milky.
The root in the juices
Unfrosted drinks deep;
The loving wave sluices
The weeds as they sleep.
Sing out! for the bees in
Their quest of wild honey
Are haunting the trees in
Green places and sunny.
Distant blue reaches
And green hills invite,
Green hills and long beaches
And roads red and white.
Locked waters are calling
With many gold voices,
Where tides gently falling
Make soft liquid noises.
Broad-spreading sun-glamour
Wraps blossom and stream,
Gold-tinting the armour
Of beetles that dream.
Full-sunned on lit ledges
The bronze lizard dozes,
And painting proud ridges
Grow tiny pink roses.
Sing out! and let trouble
Another pursue:
It will burst like a bubble
And vanish for you.
Out, out on old Sorrow,
Who skulks in her sable!
Laugh gaily, and borrow
Gay laughs while you're able.
If any care rankles —
Away! and behold
Pink feet and white ankles
On beaches of gold,
And surf that runs after
To kiss clinging dresses,
And white teeth and laughter,
And wild clinging tresses!
poem by Roderic Quinn
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It is the fate of the coconut husk to float, for the stone to sink.
A Dialogue. Lute And Voice
L. Sing, Laura, sing, whilst silent are the sphears,
And all the eyes of Heaven are turn'd to ears.
V. Touch thy dead wood, and make each living tree
Unchain its feet, take arms, and follow thee.
CHORUS.
L. Sing. V. Touch. 0 Touch. L. 0 Sing.
BOTH. It is the souls, souls sole offering.
V. Touch the divinity of thy chords, and make
Each heart string tremble, and each sinew shake.
L. Whilst with your voyce you rarifie the air,
None but an host of angels hover here.
CHORUS. SING, TOUCH, &c.
V. Touch thy soft lute, and in each gentle thread
The lyon and the panther captive lead.
L. Sing, and in heav'n inthrone deposed love,
Whilst angels dance, and fiends in order move.
DOUBLE CHORUS.
What sacred charm may this then be
In harmonie,
That thus can make the angels wild,
The devils mild,
And teach low hell to heav'n to swell,
And the high heav'n to stoop to hell?
poem by Richard Lovelace
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The War Of Colors Is Here Again
in my seven thousand islands
and some more
rising islands
the war of the colors have just
began and soon will end
there is the green of the
raw mango,
there is an orange of the
the sunset
there is the yellow of the sun
there are purples
and reds and whites
pearls and emeralds and rubies
multifaceted diamonds
soon this will be over
but i have a nice dream about the yellow sun
emerging
dissolving corruption away
shine yellow sun shine
fade orange fade
fall green, fall like a premature leaf
i could have loved the pearl
but it is deep down the ocean floor
where it is destined to be
mustache go away
please come back another day!
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Wanderlied
O, WEST of all the westward roads that woo ye to their winding,
O, south of all the southward ways that call ye to the sea,
There's a little lonely garden that would pay ye for the finding,
With a fairy-ring within it and an old thorn tree.
O, there upon the brink of morn the thrushes would be calling,
And the little lilting linnets, sure they'd wake me from the dead;
With the lime trees all in blossom and the soft leaf-shadows falling,
O, there I'd have a place at last to lay my head.
O, would I had a swallow's wings, for then I'd fly and find it;
O, would I had a swallow's heart, for then I'd love to roam !
With an orchard on the hillside and an old, old man to mind it,
O, there I'd lift my lodge at last and make my home.
O, there I'd see the tide come in along the whispering reaches,
O, there I'd lie and watch the sails go shining to the west.
And where the fir-wood follows on the wide unswerving beaches,
It's there I'd lay me down at last and take my rest.
poem by Marjorie Lowry Christie Pickthall
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Night was coming
Night was coming
with a piercing huge orange sun
breaking through
white and black clouds
in the west.
It found a gap
and the sun was hanging
like a orange ball
above the street
and it was blinding.
Cars passed barely visible
above the orange glare
and some had already
turned their lights on.
The sun dipped down
below some trees
and for a time
it glowed behind them
and soon it would be dark
and the first stars
were already appearing
and a full yellow moon
was rising,
but below bright lights
was already burning
right across the city
in colours of amber
streetlights
green, yellow and red
traffic lights,
blue lights flashing
on police cars
and almost every bright colour
caught on neon signs
while people came and went
to different destinations
some smiling and relaxed,
others in a hurry
and some others
locked in a world of their own.
poem by Gert Strydom
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Women Is Losers
Women is losers
Women is losers
Women is losers
Women is losers.
Well, i know you must have heard it all,
Lord, ev'rywhere
Men always seem to end up on top.
I said, if they told you that they want you
Say they come around and wind up your door.
Whoa i say now, if they don't desert you,
They'll leave you and never be here for more!
Women is losers
Women is losers
Women is losers, lord, lord, lord, lord!!!!!
I said i know you must have heard it all,
Lord, everywhere
Men always seem to end up on top.
I say they wear a nice shiny armor
Until there is a dragon for to slay.
Now baby,
Course with men beggin' to pay 'em
I'll say they're bound to run away, oh!
Women is losers
Women is losers
Women is losers, lord, lord, lord, lord!!!!!!
I said, i know you must have heard it all
Lord, ev'rywhere
Men almost seem to end up on top, oh!
Women is losers
Women is losers
Women is losers, lord, lord, lord, lord,
Well, i know you must have heard it all,
Men always seem to end up on top.
Oh yeah, they'll use you and confuse you
They'll leave you when no one has thought to play.
They might say to watch out after your conduct
Why the hell there ain't another way, oh!
Women is losers
Women is losers
Women is losers, lord, lord, lord, lord!!!!!!
So now i know you must have heard it all,
Ev'rywhere
Men always seem to end up on top.
song performed by by Janis Joplin
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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