Those Rivers In My Mind...
what we remember
we must too forget
what comes must in any
moment go
what arrives necessarily
must depart
too, too, these are the goings
and goings and comings and
comings
these are the waters flowing
in the rivers of our minds
these are the banks that never
stay stuffed forever...
ebbing and
overflowing
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Related quotes
People also don't care about the daily comings and goings of diplomats and yet we must report it.
quote by Roone Arledge
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Every Step Every Memory
i have left everything
and do not really care what happens
every step had been taken
and now
i have no reason to look at every
memory
they're like the wind too
the comings and goings
are getting invisible to
me.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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For A Reason Always...
every event happens for a reason
the comings and goings
departures for instance are always
on time and
always reasonable and those who are left
sometimes wonder
only to understand later
comparing what welcome was
and what departure
has become...
soon they may tell you
we have seen the light, we have seen darkness too.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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The Viewless And Invisible Consequence
The viewless and invisible Consequence
Watches thy goings-out, and comings-in,
And...hovers o'er thy guilty sleep,
Unveiling every new-born deed, and thoughts
More ghastly than those deeds--
poem by Percy Bysshe Shelley
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Our Common Fate
i shall pretend that no one is deceived
myself included,
for what is my reason for being here?
you know it
it is not you, but the rest of those who cannot speak
about their sorrows
you deceive us, we shall not measure time for how long
we shall not whisper about the harshness of your winters
we have our own droughts to paint
and we are painting it so well so the world can see and perhaps
soon
shall reflect upon it that...
we who are innocent about our comings and goings
we who are blinded by the moments
do not deserve all these
i do not listen to your laughter
my ears are never made for you
i shall not feel you
my hands are made for more than what
your kind of materialistic stuff
can hold or contain
you shall continue deceiving us until you shall learn from us
and when you stop
we shall shall move on with our journey
until you join us
sailing in the rivers of our own sorrows
for we are made of grief, for we are all but sorrows ourselves
soon,
perhaps, we shall be one in all these
always deceived always persistent always patient
always longing
for that moment
always a common fate.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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I Have Attained The Eternal Bliss
I have attained the Eternal Bliss.
There is no time for sorrow or pain,
for now I enjoy singing His glory.
The tree of His pleasure has neither root, nor seed,
as revealed by the grace of the true Guru.
Now there is effulgence of a million suns,
my swan has dipped in the lake of His knowledge.
Says Kabir, listen, O wise brother,
Now comings and goings have come to an end.
Ask Me
Some time when the river is ice ask me
mistakes I have made. Ask me whether
what I have done is my life. Others
have come in their slow way into
my thought, and some have tried to help
or to hurt: ask me what difference
their strongest love or hate has made.
I will listen to what you say.
You and I can turn and look
at the silent river and wait. We know
the current is there, hidden; and there
are comings and goings from miles away
that hold the stillness exactly before us.
What the river says, that is what I say.
poem by William Stafford
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Coming Of Happy Tomorrows
COMING OF HAPPY TOMORRWS
Dark clouds decorated by silver lining
Floating across gray skies promising
For all those struggling in shadows
About the coming of happy tomorrows
Colors of the splayed sunlight
In the pouring rain shining bright
For all those wondering at the rainbow
About the comings of happy tomorrows
Barks of the bare oak tree
Showing signs of spirit in free
In the wings of flying sparrows
About the comings of happy tomorrows
Smiles of the blooming flowers of spring
Stirring up emotions making bees sing
For all those hiding in burrows
About the comings of happy tomorrows
Gurgles of the streams in flow
Keeping its ripples as wind blows
Calling out for those in bellows
About the comings of happy tomorrows
Glow of sparks underneath the ashes
Shining like stars making a wish
For those deep in the wallow
About the comings of happy tomorrows
poem by Mittur Ramprasad
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Fidelity....
When love is gone
as it usually happens, when the house
empties itself
throws away all the furniture and beds
and sets aside
cups of coffee and
chocolate cookies,
When everything becomes a question,
we are no longer interested
in some answers,
We go on doing that things
we do
like ants on a trail
like birds building nests and depositing eggs
and hatching them
on pure instincts,
We do simply because we have to do
them,
we go on, and on and on,
nothing leaps from our chests,
the heart still beats but not for the joys of love
but only for
stability, somehow, the house is still this house,
let the home go berserk somewhere
we still keep the beams strong
and the stairs serviceable
for our comings and goings
We choose no departures
We pledge to stay: for bitter or worse
even death
till the next life, we must comply.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Time Stands Still For The Likes Of Me
Time stands still for the likes of me
Other than this moment, time does not exist
There is no past or future beyond this moment
Just this moment in time exists, and nothing more
The passage of time has no effect on me, ill or otherwise
I do no feel it's passing
It's comings and goings are lost on me
I am stuck - lost - in a timeless era
I do not seem to age, neither physically nor mentally
They say it is only 'natural' for my body to look and feel 'young'
It is merely my age that makes me feel this way
That it is only my youthfulness
But why, then, does my mind not age?
I have felt no progression on my part since grade school
I feel as though the past ten years did not exist
Middle school and high school are a blur to me
No real memories or recollection of that time in my past
I have nothing to prove it ever existed, save for the passing of time
Yes, time has stopped for me
My memory is at a standstill
I have a brain freeze that has lasted nearly a decade
I look no older than a 15 year old girl
A high school sophomore
And I carry virtually the same mentality
Time stands still for the likes of me
poem by DiAnne Douglass
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Whole Lifetimes
we travel whole lifetimes
through the mud and the mire;
struggling, fighting, loving,
dreaming, believing against all doubt...
to find our brothers and sisters
lost in the passings,
in the comings and goings,
of birth and death...
to find the face of our mother,
in lands foreign and strange.
to do the work of our father
in the ruins of our shame...
to know each other,
the scents familiar;
and hear the sound of our own hearts
beating in another's return!
we travel whole lifetimes,
on this journey together!
for Dave, Terence, Smoky, Patti,
Valerie, Juan, Robert, Veeraiyah,
Romeo, Rajendran, and all the other
poets who tend this fire..
poem by Eric Cockrell
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Lilah
Lilah
Like every young man, I had some things that i
Wanted to say
Ere I could begin, you know the world got
In my way
Oh lilah, to sleep like a baby
To open the window and feel the fair wind
Oh lilah, to sleep like a baby again
We spend so much time weeping and wailing and
Shaking our fists
Creating enemies that really dont exist
Oh lilah, to sleep like a baby-
To open the window and feel the fair wind
Oh lilah, to sleep like a baby again
All these comings and goings that cut like a knife
These small, simple pleasures that make up a life
A man needs a home, and a child, and a wife
To always be there-always
After Im gone, there are some things that I know
I will miss
The taste of your mouth; the smell of the perfume
On your wrist
Oh, lilah, the fields lie fallow
Whater ye sow, so shall ye reap
The rivers still shallow
But the riverbank is dark and deep
Oh lilah, the fields lie fallow
Whater ye sow, so shall ye reap
Oh lilah, this ground be hallow
Is ours to tend, but not to keep
Toodle-loo de-loo lilah
Toodle-loo de-loo de-lay
Now, while all the streets are silent
Take my hand and come away
Toodle-loo de-loo lilah
Toodle-loo de-loo de-lay
song performed by by Don Henley
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Boats A Bobbing
I’m sitting on the jetty, feet dangling o’er the sea,
A view that’s so breathtaking, that it’s enveloped me.
The sunlight on the water, with facets shining bright.
I could sit forever absorbing this wondrous sight.
The little boats a bobbing out on the restless brine,
Their sails of rainbow colours are beautiful and fine.
Wind is gently blowing as they navigate to shore,
At one with the ocean, such adventuring in store.
I’m standing on the headland watching seagulls streak by,
There’s squawking and diving as they pulsate through the sky.
Always so hungry, forever searching for their meal,
No matter who’s food tempts them, they are ready to steal.
I’m resting on a boulder on the top of the cliffs.
Two rowing boats are proceeding I think they are skiffs.
Chasing to beat each other with their single man crew,
There is so much to observe, Ah! here comes a canoe.
A two-masted vessel, fore-and-aft rigged, a smart ketch
Sails into harbour seen above yellow broom and vetch.
Vibrant in its paintwork, she gives a scene oh so grand,
With all her keen crew, she is very expertly manned.
I’m on my way home now but it has been a great day.
The sea, sand and salty wind, with warm sun and cool spray.
My sleek hair is unkempt and my book I have not read,
As comings and goings kept me occupied instead.
poem by Ernestine Northover
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Strawberry Blonde
There she goes down in my head
Saying things she never said
Ee comings coming soon
But shell be reading on the moon
And I dont know why shes gone
Id welcome her in my arms
But shell always be strawberry blonde
There she goes back in my heart
Blowing cobwebs in the dark
The five oclock comes round the bend
And so she goes off with her friend
Chorus
She wrote a letter to her sister
She said this time its the end
She never knew how much I missed her
Around the bend
There she goes down in my head
Leaving cobwebs in my bed
Ee comings coming soon
But shell be laughing on the moon
Chorus
song performed by by Eels
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Love's the Only Thing Worth Dying for
Love's the only thing worth dying for, bleeding for:
From out of the whole world's total comings and goings,
The only commerce can absolve finally the emptiness
All the saints knew this: that to truly live abundantly
One must give oneself over to that slow, flameless burn
Renew the undying heart of love; encompassing holocaust
Then the purified heart becomes a hidden sun
With the fearful power suns contain, secretly within
Which the eternal mind of creation can combust;
Exhaust, the continuous machination of it's universes
Whose very cores ignite, when that unmanifest potential;
Of Love becomes too great, too strong to bear
To be resisted for one more instant out of time
The force borne toward and away from love, unbalanced
Creation's exigency bursts forth into being, out of fullness,
From a single dying exhalation of breath, either side of the fulcrum
Lit by the single fuse of one who once died, blossoming into love.
poem by Patti Masterman
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If I Forget...
If I forget to tell you just how much you mean to me,
I hope that you will remember while you're not here with me.
If I forget to tell you that you are my world and more,
I hope that you will remember what I'm waiting for.
If I forget to tell you I want you in my life,
I hope that you will remember that I'm always by your side.
If I forget to tell you I love you more than words,
I hope that you will remember regardless of the hurt.
If I forget to tell you I'm sorry for my mistakes,
I hope that you will remember with every one I make.
If I forget to tell you no other can compare,
I hope that you will remember the love that we both share.
If I forget to tell you I miss you every day,
I hope that you will remember that forever I'm going to stay.
Whether I say these words to you,
or wait until you are here with me,
I will show you this forever,
and these words will have no need.
poem by Jaide Cordeiro
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Peroration this morning...
When this world ends
(which i honestly think does not)
Let all the choirs of angels in the Heavens
sing
(do you still believe about those angels?)
When you end
(translate as dying or
died; which i think is also sure to come
everyone dies anyway)
your life, for sure, i bring my own dues
to you: white flowers and some
catholic prayers and candles
and your favorite
rice cakes and
coca-cola soft-drink)
when i die
someday
(never mind the exact date)
i will wear the best smile i have
and my face
(since i cannot speak anymore
understandably)
shall send you the message
that I have also done all the things
that i have always wanted to do
that i have written all my
assigned poems
that i have followed all the orders
and commands
that i had lapses too
(but i have always been forgiving
to myself
understanding all my
limitations and
strengths)
that i have indulged in so many
restraints
to please my God and Earth and
Sky
that i have lived in the light
and savored some little
shadows of doubts
and felt the coldness of
darkness too
that i have lived fully as a human being
and that when my last breath is given
that i have already prepared myself
to the next stage
ready for the next house
available
for all the comings and goings of
the changes of
our seasons
and that for all the things that i have not
felt and known
and understood
I leave them all
in the mercies of
God.
Amen.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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The East Wind
Today i am reminded of my short comings and,
Tomorrow it will be your turn;
Because the rainbow knows when to appear and,
I will follow my mind always to success.
Today you are reminded of your short comings and,
Tomorrow it will be another person;
For i am in the house of the Captain of the guards and,
I have a plan for my servant.
Like the dream that i had last night,
And of the magicians of Egypt;
I am now very thin and scorched by the east wind.
The wise of the world do not understand Yahweh's plan,
But my plan is revealed to you my lover;
Just like the house of a prostitute called Lulu.
Let your eyes behold me my love and,
Let the flint of knives of the circumcision work;
For i am just like the first horn of the bull but,
My faith will always lead me on.
The east wind,
And of the horn of the wild ox;
Do not prolong your stay in the forest my love!
For i am here tonight with the prepared meal,
And i will wait to see your face.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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Forget Him
forget his name
forget his face
forget his kiss
his warm embrace
forget the lovethat you once know
remember he has someone new
forget him when that played your song
remember when you cryed all night long
forget how close you once were
remember he has choose her
forget how you memorized his walk
forget the way he used to talk
forget the things he used to say
remember he has gone away
forget his laugh
forget his grin
forget the dimple on his chin
forget the way he held you fight
remember he's with her tonight
forget the time that went so fast
forget the love that moved'the past
forget he said he'd leave you never
remember he's gone forever
poem by Christane Darling
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Old Memories Came Flooding
old memories came flooding
like overflowing waters from the mountain
rivers came running
wood drifting
some snakes astray
losing direction
leaves too many
for the keeping of the banks
some twigs block
the way of the fish
and the frogs
i am one kind of a very strong damn
i have prepared for these calamities for years
of my silence and storing stones and lime
and steel to make these
uncompromising obstruction
things stop and i am responsible
for anything that destroys and spills
i am this dam and i will stay so calm
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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