Thoughts About The White Bud Turning Into A Lonely Flower..
outside the
white bud blooms
alone on an array of
heart shaped leaves
how pure
how undisturbed
how lonely
shall it be
under the clear
white linen sky
(perhaps,
my thoughts alone,
but nothing
jibing with what
it really is,
as usual)
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Related quotes
Can I Dry Clean?
washing the clean linen in dirty water,
makes the clothes to be dirty and colored,
white clothe will invite the color of contrast,
color of the water that it is dipped into.
When we think of the ills and manipulate with evils,
the souls that are born white, will be colored,
when we wash the evil thoughts in evil solutions,
our souls will be soiled, colored and in illusion.
believing the color that we possess is the brightest,
If it is the brightest of white, as white is pure,
then it is all right, even if we are in other colors,
don't worry, it can be bleached to white.
White and black are two extreme colors,
with extreme characters and properties,
when the white reflects everything as good actions,
the black absorbs everything as the mother nature.
Between these two colors,
there are thousands of colors,
blending of seven colors of rain bow,
where we live and be happy and sorrow.
Washing the clean linen of any color,
in the water of dirt and sediment,
will make the linen dirty and soiled,
Where shall we find the clean water,
to wash our dirty souls of multiple colors?
poem by Veeraiyah Subbulakshmi
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White as Truth
i am a page of white
a space limited only by
the scope of your thoughts
you can write whatever you wish
onto me - the good, the bad, or the ugly
- provided they are from your heart,
truthful, innocent and pure as a white lily
you dont have to worry about me
let your thoughts flow like the breeze
i have enough space for you
to fill out all your fantasies
i am a page of black
you can write what you want
- the good, the bad, or the ugly -
provided they are really from
your heart, truthful, innocent
and pure as white lily
i have enough space for you to
fill out all your fantasies
just make sure your ink is white
so that it will shine as bright as truth
poem by John Tiong Chunghoo
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Black and White (Stream XV)
I have black thoughts,
It is a black day,
A day when the black dog
Coal black, hovers at my shoulder.
I shoulder the burden.
Deep in the black hole.
Black as a black hearted night.
Negative.
Stark.
Black and white.
I do not call my good days white days.
Why?
Or have white thoughts
On a white day,
When the white dog
Pure white sits upon my shoulder.
Which is unburdened.
Out of the pit,
Luxuriating in the bright white light;
White as the purest snow.
Positive.
For we live in a too white world
Maybe we should have grey days,
And light days.
Why should Black be negative and White poitive?
For me then, today is a grey day.
Maybe tomorrow will be a light day.
Copyright P H Brookes 2012
poem by Paul Brookes
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The White Rose o' June
Air - 'Voice of Spring.'
Now the bricht sun, and the soft simmer showers,
Deck a' the woods and the gardens wi' flowers;
But bonny and sweet though the hale o' them be,
There's ane aboon a' that is dearest to me;
An' oh, that's the white rose, the white rose o' June,
An' may
he
that should wear it come back again sune!
It's no on my breast, nor yet in my hair,
That emblem dear I venture to wear;
But it blooms in my heart, and its white leaves I weet,
When alane in the gloamin' I wander to greet,
O'er the white rose, the white rose, the white rose o' June,
An' may
he
that should wear it come back again sune!
Mair fragrant and rich the red rose may be,
But there is nae spell to bind it to me;
But dear to my heart and to fond memorie,
Tho' scathed and tho' blighted the white rose may be.
O the white rose, the white rose, the white rose o' June,
O may
he
that should wear it come back again sune!
An' oh! may the true hearts thy perils who share,
Remember'd wi' tears, and remember'd in prayer,
Whom misfortune's rude blast has sent far awa',
Fair breezes bring back sune to cottage and ha';-
Then, O sing the white rose, the white rose o' June,
An' may
he
that should wear it wear Scotland's auld croun!
poem by Carolina Oliphant
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Jibing
just plain, dark coffee
no sugar, no milk,
just darkness
nothing sweet
white is taboo jibing
with the state
of my heart
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Purify
Tear it down
Strip the layers off
My turpentine
Old paint, old looks
Cover up the past
White heat, white light
Super white bones
Bones of you and I
Pure if I...can't you help me?
Pure if I...won't you help me?
Purify you and I
Purify you and I
Pure if I...can't you help me?
Pure if I...won't you help me?
You and I purify
Truth and dare
Peeling back the skin
Acid wash
Ghost white
Ultra Clean
Wanna be skeleton
Clear eyes
Diamond eyes
Strip the past of mine
My sweet turpentine
I can find the dirt on anything
I can find the dirt on anything
I ain't dancing with your skeletons
I ain't dancing with what might have been
song performed by by Metallica
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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We are shaped by our thoughts; we become what we think. When the mind is pure, joy follows like a shadow that never leaves.
Lost in love
Did you hear a rhythm divine?
That framed in a forsaken shrine
Behold that bashful virgin
Dressed in a pure white linen
Come close and listen to her rhymes
With broken heart she looks sublime
Wane and wailing in a tone of pain
Restraint herself but in vain
Might she had a misfortune past
Ignite her passion, enchained her heart
Her pair of blue eyes
Yields her but tears in prize
Though I passed her silently
Stirring my thoughts violently
poem by Gulsher john
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One Day You Dissolve Into Whiteness...
a white car waits for you
at the white side of the road
you are in your white suit
white socks and white shoes
you are white yourself
pale lips and snowy face
dusty eyes, clear tears
falling down to your cheeks
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Cindy's Nightout
she likes her hair
red and her skin
pale
not jibing with
moonlight
big white flowers
hang in her room
a black pumpkin
with white leaves
has two rats ready
for her dreams
obviously she believes
in Cinderella
obviously she is waiting
for the fairy godmother
to do the magic
when she decides finally
to spend her night out
looking for her prince
wanting to fulfill her dreams
you might notice
she is already ready
all day she practiced
walking with only one shoe
she runs and laughs at the same time
inside her black room
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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My Mind Was Full Of Ideas This Morning
my mind is full of ideas this morning
while i am walking alone
on the grassy path of this mountainside
i am so tired. I take my rest sitting on a log
rotting under a tree.
i gaze on the ricefields just below this hill.
some white herons as usual fly low
some sparrows regroup themselves and
scatter in an instant like a confetti of dry leaves.
the sun comes out in glory
proclaiming though its reign on this corner
the gumamela flowers on the side of the hills bow down
and bloom again
i am amazed on the beginning of this beautiful day.
The butterflies flutter on the bushes of white petals
of these wild flowers. I see a nest with three small white eggs.
the sound of waters cascading on the creek.
some leaves are carried away. A fish jumps trying to catch
a low flying dragonfly. Some dew begins to lose their
glow on the bamboo leaves.The law of evaporation gets in.
Lost. I am so empty.The window of my heart is open.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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The Great Encounter
Fifteen minutes ago I was away,
Fourten minutes ago I was near,
I couldnt see the pictures clear,
Yet the vibrations I could hear,
My heart pounded with fear,
She was pure and ever dear,
It was fate I thought,
It was late I ought,
It was the great encounter
My heart was mud in boat,
Yet my fight was fed and caught,
My eyes did not deceive,
Wearing nice coats on my mind,
Trying to be the sweet guy always,
To please a woman I adore,
She stole my heart in minutes,
I couldnt steal her time even seconds,
My lost thoughts I thought she found,
Flowers and thorns, me and her
I met a friend, I cherished a friend
The great time, the great encounter
With linen shorts on resorts,
The wishes of a wondering man,
Hoping and waiting for the moment,
So long entrusted in the future,
Forged in the heart of a willing heart,
She never felt the same,
The thoughts of parallel minds,
Black and white, the art of a zebra
Mixed reactions and reacting mixtures,
Hoping and hoping, im waiting for you
The great encounter, so great in deed
The mirror showed me the visions,
Behind me you fashioned a foundation
Being a friend, texts without presence,
Avoiding clean with reasons,
It was pride, I knew it
She was clear, she proved it
Time will tell, but it might fail,
Waiting upon thee,
The great encounter
poem by Gaylord Munemo
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White Skin Black Heart
Yeah, whatcha gonna do now, now that you started?
Whatcha gonna do now, now that its done?
The words got out there, they float around and are coming right back down.
You gonna leave us lying here
Dealing with the consequences of a bad sound
Of a bad sound.
White skin black heart
White skin black heart
Whatcha gonna do now, that its spoken?
These words of a habit, have not faded away.
.................... it clear, conscious gets opened like a wound.
If you cant concieve a better line and better times,
Then let silence bury you, in the end.
When you feel it, when you feel it
Youre condemned.
You see, youve lost your strangle on the freedom road! you
Think ........................of something a long time ago! you
[spewed it out you were so] insecure! it was like ............. on
The toilet floor! youre a [nine seat] drunk, ............... and
You say you want something, .......... you heard the rednecks
Roaring for blood and then they wanted more! life was so small, you
Couldnt get enough. you made a start.
White skin black heart
Dripping,
White skin black heart
White skin black heart
White skin black heart
White skin black heart
Drag your eyes from [aurora] black heart!
White skin black heart
Drag your leg, get outta here [my sight]!
White skin black heart
White skin black heart
White skin black heart
White skin black heart
You didnt have to start
White skin black heart
White skin black heart
song performed by by Midnight Oil
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Fundo
Thou art love's sweet dew which frost mine heart
Dressed in chemise white, love's scintillating tart
My heart blooms into pink lilies fair as thine dew melts
Ores of love from hate for mine heart smelts
Into beautiful, soft, delicate, elegant silk
As pure as light as white as milk
To wrap thee in and love with beauty cherish
In my grasps we melt with love till love doth perish…
poem by Kevin Michael Murphy
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White Lie
One little white lie
One white lie surrounds us
One white lie wont stop the love
That I feel around us
Darlin, do you think about me
What I feel for you, dont you ever doubt me
You see the lock on the door
Of this heart, but you hold the key
I need the trust you can give
Is there something that you need from me?
One little white lie
One white lie surrounds us
One white lie wont stop the love
That I feel around us
Secrets, and the way we keep them
Between you and me
Promise well never need them
I can see something so true
No one else could ever see
And Ill never chance losing you
I believe my heart, I hear what its telling me
One little white lie
One white lie surrounds us
One white lie wont stop the love
That I feel around us
One little white lie
One white lie tears us apart
One white lie wont stop the love
Thats waiting in this heart
Thats waiting in this heart
Temptation leave us alone
cause I know youre always there
But white lies can weigh like stone
And in this world I hear them everywhere
One little white lie, ooh yeah
One white lie surrounds us
One white lie wont stop the love
That I feel around us
One little white lie, one lie
One white lie tears us apart
One white lie wont stop the love
Thats waiting in this heart
Thats waiting in this heart
One lie, one lie
One little white lie, one white lie
One white lie, one little white lie
song performed by by Foreigner
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Way You Want Things To Be
you want the sea to have waves
and you say that they are more true that way
or the leaves to have the wind beside it
or the skies to have clouds
how i wish however to have crystal clear seas
leaves so still as though they only have the sun as companion
clear skies
undisturbed blue
do you think that there is something wrong with all these?
i know you will leave me with a blunt answer
but let me tell you
crystals are virtues of the sea before it was disturbed
clear skies have always been peaceful
and leaves have always wanted the solitude without the wind
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Take Back the Virgin Page
Written on Returning a Blank Book
Take back the virgin page,
White and unwritten still;
Some hand, more calm and sage,
The leaf must fill.
Thoughts come, as pure as light
Pure as even you require;
But, oh! each word I write
Love turns to fire.
Yet let me keep the book:
Oft shall my heart renew,
When on its leaves I look,
Dear thoughts of you.
Like you, 'tis fair and bright;
Like you, too bright and fair
To let wild passion write
One wrong wish there.
Haply, when from those eyes
Far, far away I roam,
Should calmer thoughts arise
Towards you and home;
Fancy may trace some line,
Worthy those eyes to meet,
Thoughts that not burn, but shine,
Pure, calm, and sweet.
And as, o'er ocean far,
Seamen their records keep,
Led by some hidden star
Through the cold deep;
So may the words I write
Tell through what storms I stray --
You still the unseen light,
Guiding my way.
poem by Thomas Moore
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You Must Know The Fences Of My World
my world revolves around a fence
of 'nots'
not this, not that,
think, think a while, no compromises
do not stain a white cloth
do not display a dirty linen of the house
a dropp of ink can make your world dirty
a white sky, pure white sky, why should a black crow fly in there?
don't you make a waste of this clean life you have
this is the world i live in, a planet revolving to the mandate
of its orbits, no deviation, no running away, no escaping
not this, not that
don't do this don't do that
and now i have travelled that far and all wanting to see you
and look at you and hold you
despite the odds despite the rules and the prohibitions
and i ask for a kiss, just a kiss and tell me if you remember
i ask you why?
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Dirty White Boy
Hey, baby, if youre feelin down
I know whats good for you all day
Are you worried what your friends see
Will it ruin your reputation lovin me
cause Im a dirty white boy
Yeah a dirty white boy
A dirty white boy
Dont drive no big black car
Dont like no hollywood movie star
You want me to be true to you
You dont give a damn what I do to you
Im just a dirty white boy
Dirty white boy, dirty white boy
Dirty white boy, dirty white boy
Dirty white boy
Well, Im a dirty white boy
Dirty white boy, dirty white boy
Dirty white boy, yeah, dirty white boy
A dirty white boy
Ive been in trouble since I dont know when
Im in trouble now and I now somehow Ill find trouble again
Im a loner, but Im never alone
Every night I get one step closer to the danger zone
cause Im a dirty white boy
Dirty white boy, yeah, dirty white boy
Dirty white boy, Im a dirty white boy
Dirty white boy
Cmon, cmon boy
Dirty white boy, white boy
Dirty white boy, Im a dirty white boy
Dirty white boy
Hey, Im a dirty white boy
Dirty white boy, yeah, Im a dirty white boy
Dirty white boy, dirty white boy, yeah
song performed by by Foreigner
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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This Morning
This morning was something. A little snow
lay on the ground. The sun floated in a clear
blue sky. The sea was blue, and blue-green,
as far as the eye could see.
Scarcely a ripple. Calm. I dressed and went
for a walk -- determined not to return
until I took in what Nature had to offer.
I passed close to some old, bent-over trees.
Crossed a field strewn with rocks
where snow had drifted. Kept going
until I reached the bluff.
Where I gazed at the sea, and the sky, and
the gulls wheeling over the white beach
far below. All lovely. All bathed in a pure
cold light. But, as usual, my thoughts
began to wander. I had to will
myself to see what I was seeing
and nothing else. I had to tell myself this is what
mattered, not the other. (And I did see it,
for a minute or two!) For a minute or two
it crowded out the usual musings on
what was right, and what was wrong -- duty,
tender memories, thoughts of death, how I should treat
with my former wife. All the things
I hoped would go away this morning.
The stuff I live with every day. What
I've trampled on in order to stay alive.
But for a minute or two I did forget
myself and everything else. I know I did.
For when I turned back i didn't know
where I was. Until some birds rose up
from the gnarled trees. And flew
in the direction I needed to be going.
Anonymous submission.
poem by Raymond Clevie Carver
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