Those Better Years
the farm yielded
more than what the
storehouse can
ever hold
the mangoes ripen
with no one to
pick them up
the birds feast on the
grains and the butterflies
feast on fruit juices
dropping to the
grassy ground
the rivers are clean
crystal clear creeks
with fish teeming
the seas have white
seagulls over them
the bottom all filled
with corals and
fish crowding
the crabs bite us
when we pass the river
we never pick any
the geese abound
and no one uses a gun
to kill anyone
there were no cities then
no tyrants no conquerors
there was peace
and progress
until the discoverers came
and named our lands
in the name of their king.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
Home Sweet Home
sunday on a home sweet home
from the city
to this little nipa hut
on top of a hill
that father built
where the guava trees are filled
with ripe fruits
where i climb and gather and taste
the sweetness of its pink flesh
where the carabaos rest
in the coolness of mudholes
where i take my ride on them
in the river nearby
on crystal clear waters
where some fish swim on shallow waters
inviting me to fish and catch them
for lunch of pearl white glutenous rice
and with banana leaves as plates
and some wild chicken's barbecued breast
and with my bare hands and
some childhood friends
we shall take this simple feast
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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A Dry Land
this used to be a river
filled with fish
we used to catch some here
days and years
lump together and humans
pack up
rivers convert themselves
to cities for need of space
this one shall follow
it is not the sun that has
taken what it has
a tractor builds a dike
and takes all the water here
this is dry land
no fish, no water,
no moss, sand is filled
and rocks
delivered to make
out of this river
a new housing subdivision
at a higher cost
than money
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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A Story To Tell To Your Lost Civilization...
at first there was peace
trees bear fruits
that turn ripe and children
climb the trees
to gather the apples and
savor what sweetness is there
that nature
has to offer
the land is vast
the sea is immeasurable
the skies infinite
the rivers keep on running
forever
the ocean's depths and
abundance
untiring
people misunderstand what ownership is
stewardship is an alien concept
there is always the want to have
greed is cancerous
a country expands
dictators abound
conquerors become heroes
of their lands
bringing slaves and
the fortune of
others
nature is made to bow down
to caprices
whims are the rules
to destroy is to own
to abuse is to use
wars are made like the way the bombs
are stored
like the way the swords and spears
were once sharpened
to kill
there is always nothing enough
for the imperialist
nothing satisfies the conquerors
disguised as the discoverers of
the new world
and so there will always be war
rebellion will always mushroom everywhere
nothing rests
and it will always be the 'dead who can see
the end of all these wars'
at the end who wins? ah nobody
everyone perishes
and nature shall grow its roots again
to retake its long gone leaves and flowers
its green mountains its pure rivers
its clean and blue oceans
its clouds untainted by the smoke of gunpowder
the mushrooms of that nuclear warfare....
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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I was a typical farm boy. I liked the farm. I enjoyed the things that you do on a farm, go down to the drainage ditch and fish, and look at the crawfish and pick a little cotton.
quote by Sam Donaldson
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Pick Yourself Up Off the Bottom
Doo-doo-doo-doo do...Bedoo.
Bedoobe doo-bee-do...Be-dooooo-beeeeahhh.
Bah dum.
And-pick-yourself-up-off-the-bottom.
Doo-doo-doo-doo do...Bedoo.
Bedoobe doo-bee-do...Be-dooooo-beeeeahhh.
Bah dum.
And-pick-yourself-up-off-the-bottom.
B ah dum.
And-pick-yourself-up-off-the-bottom.
Get back to a simpler time.
If not just in your mind...
When you found a reason and rhyme.
To unwind.
Get back to a purposeness.
When you had much more sense.
And your mind wasn't condensed...
To accepting false lies...
To fly like they do!
Hop-in-that-taxi...and get back to you.
Doo-doo-doo-doo do...Bedoo.
Bedoobe doo-bee-do...Be-dooooo-beeeeahhh.
Bah dum.
Doo-doo-doo-doo do...Bedoo.
Bedoobe doo-bee-do...Be-dooooo-beeeeahhh.
Bah dum.
And-pick-yourself-up-off-the-bottom.
Doo-doo-doo-doo do...Bedoo.
Bedoobe doo-bee-do...Be-dooooo-beeeeahhh.
Bah dum.
And-pick-yourself-up-off-the-bottom.
Bah dum.
And-pick-yourself-up-off-the-bottom.
Doo-doo-doo-doo do...Bedoo.
Bedoobe doo-bee-do...Be-dooooo-beeeeahhh.
Bah dum.
And-pick-yourself-up-off-the-bottom.
B ah dum.
And-pick-yourself-up-off-the-bottom.
B ah dum.
Pick-yourself-up-off-the-bottom.
B ah dum.
And-pick-yourself-up-off-the-bottom.
B ah dum.
Just pick-yourself-up-off-the-bottom.
Bah dum.
Pick-yourself-up-off-the-bottom.
Bah dum.
Just pick-yourself-up-off-the-bottom.
Doo-doo-d oo-doo do...Bedoo.
Bedoobe doo-bee-do...Be-dooooo-beeeeahhh.
Bah dum.
Giddyup, giddyup, giddyup, giddyup...and
Pick-yourself-up-off-the-bottom.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Some Thoughts While Reading Rumi
Go walk into your garden & pick the tiny
Red fruit of the very old sun
It is just one plant & quite small
But go walk into your garden & pick the tiny
Red fruit of the sun
Go walk into your garden & feast on life
Because life is a feast
Go walk into your garden & pick the little
Red fruit of the very old sun
It is just one plant & very small
But go walk into your garden & pick the tiny
Red fruit & feast on life
Because life is a feast
Go walk into your garden
No matter how small
It is still a garden.
poem by M.L. Squier
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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By The Sea
the sea is crystal clear
the seagulls mirror
what they have on their feathers
the fishes too transparent
the feast starts
predator prey
on a very clear day
that is life in peace
someone has to eat
and someone is eaten
like us in love, we prey
on weakness
all strengths and wisdom
all forgotten
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Come, Come Stay With Us, This Is Our Paradise
on the other side is the coastal beauty
of sky blue clear seas and coconut palms
at the opposite of the other side one takes
the road leading to the green mountains
the forest trees are nest of birds and
the branches are playthings for monkeys
below the mountains are villages
sleepy and peaceful and cooler with
fresh air and flowery gardens
a vast expanse of rice and corn fields
rivers still teeming with fish
the people still opting for peace
this is our paradise. Come, stay with us.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Water Ways
The Water Ways
By Lori Triggs
Copyrighted June 14,2007
Earth was here first…
The rivers, lakes, creeks and oceans was born…
So the water was plangent in the crevices on the earth…
Than the plants with trees was rebirth…
Now came the dinosaurs that lasted millions of years…
Than came the volcanoes that wipe them out…
The reptiles came and still here on a slow decline…
So the mammals with the fish been around for centuries,
But for how long can we say…
Animals with birds been around since dooms day….
You notice they slowly diminishing…
Humans was put on earth last…
They consume in excess in
Water, plants, trees,
Reptiles, mammals, fish,
Animals & birds for money, food even to make a profit call greed…
Human have did toxics
The water with the lands around the earth…
So have they did with reptiles, mammals, fish, animals and birds…
You notice they slowly diminishing…
Humans they are in abounded…
They never die out only cause more harm than good…
They where put on earth by mistake…
So they should be the first to go…
Only one dropp of water…
The ground dried up so no water
Is their a plant or tree to spear to see…
Not a reptile to be seen…
The mammals with fish vanished…
So now the animals and birds are gone…
All is now is dying humans…
Died for excess wasting the earth away.
poem by Lori Triggs
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Some Changes That We Need
we need to fill the cracks on the walls
some trickles of light may hurt
on the roof the rain as always will be bad
for the floor
some leaks must be sealed
the stones on the pavement choked
by the grass that has been crawling
for all the years
i have to pick up so my foot may not
be hurt
and then some goodbyes maybe said
even without the hellos yet
we settle, that is a good word,
we move on, i think that is much better
i am closing a door and so i am opening
a window like what you are doing
i am taking sleep only to be taken by a dream
i am flying only to stop for a while
tomorrow is a new day, as always, i am not closing
my eyes for another view of the sea
there will be new seagulls coming but i have
stopped counting each of them since then
as always they shall feast on my schools of fish
and i do not really mind at all.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Fishees Underwater
Fish have many pretty colors, they live beneath the waves
Some fish seem to swim in schools while others live in caves
Some are short and some are small and some are stringy thin
Some of them are wide and tall and some just dig right in.
There's not much light beneath the waves of all our great big seas,
But all the fish don't seem to mind, they somehow still can see
Plants live down there, under water and make things seem so nice,
That all the fishes dance around and always check things twice.
Some fish swim deep down there, others they just won't
Some of them seem unafraid, but most of them just don't
Some fish have large shiny teeth, some have none at all
Some of them swim hastily, while others only crawl.
Of all the fish and animals my favorite is a star fish
If I find one on the beach, I stop and make a wish
I pick them up and throw them back, far out into the ocean
And hope they learn to not return, or repeat that silly notion.
poem by Daniel Lloyd Kennedy
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Long Ago, The Land Was Green
Long ago, the land was green
Blue and shades of brown
And now, the mass of concrete slabs
Form rainbows all around
Once the air was lonely
Except the majestic birds
Now, screams of airplanes fill the air
And cities are filled with words
Rivers of old, were crowded with fish
Too many for us to eat
Now, we fish in quiet rest
For cans and other treats
Bless the ones who gave us this
Inhaling smoke for breath
Bless the ones who gave us comfort
Although the cost is death
poem by Wakefield Mahon
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The View At The Top
it is 3000 steps from the
ground. You begin climbing
on an early morning
when the grass are still
rich with dew
and then the sun
starts to shine and then
the birds start to gather
the sweet sap of the
fruit with their
tiny, and long, black beaks
along the way.
it is not strange to see
a variety of colored
butterflies hovering
from one flower to
another. They too
gather the nectar
from the wildflowers
along the way.
you climb slowly
each cemented stair
of this old shrine
you tackle each
station of the cross
of this catholic rite.
finally at noon you
reach the top and
see the whole of the
city below.
a river winds like a
snake.It is the same river
that you pass seven times
before reaching the
ground of this peak.
you see the sea beyond
like a basin with still water.
you see boats like
floating petals of a
white flower, and those
biggers ones appear
to you like leaves
that had fallen to the ground.
you see clouds and clear skies
and you feel that up here
you are both king and god.
do not look down on this cliff
the feeling that everyone pulls down
your feet is still there.
you have felt it before in the office
where you are working and you
want to quit.
just like the butterfly that gathers
the nectars or the birds that gather
the sap of the ripe fruits
you come here to gather
your spirit. You want to be strong.
You want to be whole again.
You like to move on.
There is so much silence at the top.
There is no noise except the comforting silence of the wind.
There is so much to gather here.
Memories. Thoughts. Solitude. Peace.
Harmony. The unity of the universe in the
palm of your hand.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Caring For a Dead Fish
When the cupboard is bare
And the cat’s had the cream,
Who cares about a dead fish?
When the house is on fire
And the birds have all flown,
Who cares about a dead fish?
When your loved ones have gone
And you’re left all alone,
Who cares about a dead fish?
When the seas have dried up
And the land is all desert,
Who cares about a dead fish?
When the Sun has gone Nova
And we’re all blown to bits,
Who cares about a dead fish?
When it’s all empty space
And there’s nothing at all,
Even a dead fish would be worth caring about.
poem by Pete Crowther
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Purpose...
i have never explained to you
what goodbye meant
when i left you, it was raining
you want to hold my hand, but it was slippery
there was running water in my palm
my eyes were blinded by mist
i have still all the explanations
but still i must keep them and
bring these all to my grave
buried there with me...
it was not that i lack the love
that was all reserved for you
always remember that....there is nothing
that fulfills me
my emptiness is an ocean without fish
inside are the glaciers of cold thoughts
your boat on fragile sails deserves a better sea
calm and clean and clear
where corals nest where fish are abundant
i have no regret having loved you and left you
you are happy now, my departure has served
so well the purpose with which it was done.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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A day at the Ocean
A day at the Ocean
I had a notion...to look at the life
in the deep blue
barnacles on ships
stuck on the hull; making a home
oysters have beds-no pillows or quilts
at the bottom of the ocean's floor
some sand, will make them a peal
crabs walk sideways; on thier backs
they live in a tight curled seashell;
sea horses, unique
dads care for their young
they are the first single dads
oh I wish I could live in the ocean so blue
to play the dolphins and eels
I’d dance with a jelly fish as it jiggles about
and listen to the song of a whale
spend a day at the ocean
or, pick up sea shells
find the beauty in a crystal clear
tide pool; the wonders of nature
reminds us to ponder
the creatures both large and small
poem by Catherine Inscore
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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When I remember the fish
When I remember the fish,
The river longed me to go,
Wriggling and meandering, slippery in this
Imaginary waters of my world,
I become a fish.
When eye sea them eat the fish;
They cast their nets for a random catch, they
Drop their hooks for a strangling pull, then,
I become a fish no more.
When them fail to catch the fish;
As the fish wriggles an escape,
Then eye long to be like one as eye
Wonder whether or not am a fish.
©1998
poem by Akachukwu Chukwuemeka
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Some things that can happen with a fish
A fish that drinks like a fish, that is a fish in excess
A fish that fishes in troubled waters, that is a fish taking advantage of another fish in trouble
A fish that fishes or cuts bait, well, to be or not to be, to retreat or to attack, that is the fishy question
A fish that is neither fish nor fowl, is a fish that is neither one nor the other, lacking some convictions
A fish out of water, is a fish feeling left out, no longer in his accustomed environment
Do you have other fish to fry for now?
Is there other matter requiring my attention?
Poor fish,
the lake is finally fished out from his fishy mind.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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31
A fish that drinks like a fish, that is a fish in excess
A fish that fishes in troubled waters, that is a fish taking advantage of another fish in trouble
A fish that fishes or cuts bait, well, to be or not to be, to retreat or to attack, that is the fishy question
A fish that is neither fish nor fowl, is a fish that is neither one nor the other, lacking some convictions
A fish out of water, is a fish feeling left out, no longer in his accustomed environment
Do you have other fish to fry for now?
Is there other matter requiring my attention?
Poor fish,
the lake is finally fished out from his fishy mind.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Fist Pt2
a fish a fish
can anyone be a fish?
swimming this way and that way
what a glee that would be
watch out for sharks they bite,
dont fancy being a bite do you
under millions of miles of water
oh dear not for me
i'll just stay me..
poem by Christina McIntosh
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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