En.Citatepedia^®.ro

To A Nephew Newly Born

the most absolute beauty of course is your tiny hand
i want to put there the warmth of my sighs
the roundness of a peeble, the green minty scents of herbs,
the little ponderous glances,
a sunray, a whisper, a hush
at the tips of your fingers

wrinkles are always strangers there
your skin so tight and magical

not this callous hands of my
sunset this
roof without the moon and stars

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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A Jar's Story

from the start
the hands that shaped you
designed you to be empty
you were named
Jar,

someone so
beautiful and rich
takes you
away from your
maker

those hands
cannot hold you for long
because they are
empty and hungry
hands

and then she fills
you with perfume
and all those who attend
the parties of the
world
dip their fingers
in your scent

they crowd around you
and you are loved
not for what you are
but what you
can give

scents, scents,
all scents

you begin to miss
your original form
the beauty that you
possess

when you were
once empty

you miss the whisper
of space inside
your belly

the hush of the wind
that rests in
your heart

you forget the name
that was given to you

Jar is your name
but are not one of them
anymore

you are the scent
of their necks
hanging on their
jaws and navels

your contents
fill now their fantasies

your hollowness
they now discard

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Yes, My God Is Everywhere

My Lord is everywhere
every petal of flower has been touched by his hand
every blow of wind has been softened by his heartbeats
every my tear has been moistened by his drops
every my heartbeat has been pleasured by his love

The beauty of flowers the kiss of God's lips
the beauty of grass the touch of God's hands
the beauty of sea the rain of God's tears
the beauty of mountain the power of God'mystery

Every my suffer has been cuddled by his blood
every my pain has been taken by his veins
every my cold night has been drowned into his warmth
every my lost has been straightened by his paths

The beauty of sunrise the purity of God's light
the beauty of sunset the red of God's blood
the beauty of hope the green of God's buds
the beauty of trust the God's belief in me
Yes, my God is everyhwere

poem by Ata Augustyn
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My Plant is in a Cage

Some of my friends say,
I have green fingers.
I just plant the seed and pray,
and watch, as time lingers.

Grow they do, green and lush
Don't tell no one hush, hush.
cause in Holland we grow 'Mary Jane'
In U.S.A. and Canada it's not quit the same.

The green sage is all the rage,
So I put my green plant in a cage
Locked up tight, 'Motion Detector' on! .
In the morning, no plant will be gone!

poem by David Darbyshire
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Under the same moon.

Under the same moon. (poem/storyline)

Separated by Miles,
True love strengthens by distance,
Two hands longing to be held,
Two hearts -Beating as one,

Two pairs of eyes,
See beyond the world,
The sky...Is not the sky,
The moon...Is not the moon,
The stars...Are not the stars,

But a gateway,
A runaway,
To being together,

Bonding as one,
both stare onto the clearing of the moon,
They see each other in the sky,
They stare upon it,
They feel, they realize
Their not alone, But standing face to face,
To find love under the moonlight,
Distance relives but shares the same sky,
The towns people are silent and asleep,
Only two names, one boy, one girl-
Exist as the waxing gibbous turns full,

Seconds pass by fast,
Her hand touches his heart,
His hand touches hers,
A sudden movement,
They are holding each other,
Locking hands and eyes,
Every night they visit the same moon,
Just to be with each other,
The morning slowly breaks the dark,
the sun takes over the moon,

Til' this day the moon has never gone,
But is hiding to come again every night,
to bring two together,

Years past,
the moon still never gone,
what was once a little boy, and once a little girl,
grow older,
They're skin wrinkles,
eye sight fades,
strength dims,
bones weaken,
But now together-
two look in each others eyes,
searching for the past,
for now and old woman,
and an old man,
Still holding each others hand.

That night they both go to heaven,
Together,

But as the moon shall come again,
there they will stand,
Together,
As a little boy and girl.

Holding each other,
under the same moon.

poem by Danie Babcock
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Green fingers

Whatever she plants it grows rapidly.
Her soft magical fingers devote for a green house.
He was mesmerized to her sing-song while she was in the fields.
Though he passes several times on her premises
He is not so lucky to touch her transparent fingers.
Already a young vegetarian has joined her green revolution.
But once in a way he peeps to buy fresh vegetables.
Then he touches her finger tips.
He lived in his illusion half of the journey.

poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
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My Helen

In a garden green we sat
My hand in yours
Yours held I
Roses around
Stars in the sky
Moon in full bloom
And the gentle breeze
Hither and thither
Move the blades of grass
The fire-flies flew
Around me and you
In restless heart of mine
The passion slowly grew
Closer I got
Pressed hand tight
No more in the world
Nor the nature's sight
The numberless glowworms
Around you revolved
In beauty and the charm
Resting on my arm
A newly wedded groom
Envious the moon
Jealousy in stars,
For resting on my arm
Was Helen of the Troy

poem by Jahan zaib
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I Stick To My Point Darling

i stick to my point my darling
love and lust go hand in hand together
one cannot exist without the other
one cannot just love and not lust
for love will always like to last with lust

for what is this deep silence without the
noise of fire
the tongues of the sun
the pelvis of the moon
the fingers of tickling tiny cinders of stars

to the heavens of course, we heave, we bend,
show me what is kept inside your skirt
show me those breasts that enclose the
true beatings of the heart

i will love you and i cannot help but lust with you.
for i am both air and leaf, river and rock,
for i am both bird and sky, i am both mortar and pestle,
i am both sun and moon
pond and pebble
snake and grass

let me hold you then with the gentleness of my soft hands
let my tongue lick every corner of your skin
let me love you and eat you and swallow you
for by then, you become truly a part of me

immersed, flowing, running all over my mouth and veins.
my throat, my lips, to my finger tips.

let me love you and let me have you. let no part be absent.
let the meeting and tasting be so sweet and enduring.

i love you, and it is not enough.
there is more to the bursting
of a star. it is endless, it is kind and brutal.
like this big bang of creation.
the pain of darkness
and the gentleness
of light.

silence cannot lose itself within the calmness of the waters.
deep inside, we partake, the lust of our beings.
we drink this cup, we die and live.

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Mushy Peas

Minty green and mean,
Mushy pea clean.
Add to the plate,
Of your best mate.
Mushy peas and chips,
Raised to the lips.
Believe me when I say,
A sensation so intense,
Will leave you, in suspense.
Mushy peas
Minty green, yet supreme.

© 2012

poem by Nick Strong
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When Your Hand Of Friendship Is Brushed Aside

say thank you

try extending your hand to another hand
to the other thousand hands in this world who need other hands
those with love in their hearts those with minds still believing in friendship

tell yourself she does not deserve your offer
assure yourself she is another ghost
another virtuality
another waste
a junk

without a name without a soul without a face
extend your hand to another hand with real fingers on them
and try seeing yourself in the mirror
you still have that reflection and that ghost does not have any
be glad
you are real and she isn't

does she think that you have pain and that you need her friendship badly
such that you want to bow before her like she is the goddess of beauty
and wisdom and truth?

let her be. She is not a part of you.
why bother?

be yourself and keep that hands of friendship warm
for another one who needs it too

let the gods reign in the heavens. They live in their clouds
stay on earth and be the river for the fishes to swim
for the strangers to drink with the cup of their hands for them to quench
their thirsts

let your hands of friendshipsbe the seeds of springs
the flowers of summers
that bloom forever
let your scent spread for those who still need them

and let these gods remain as gods
because they shall always be worshipped as loveless strangers of this earth

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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I've a Secret to Tell Thee

I've a secret to tell thee, but hush! not here --
Oh! not where the world its vigil keeps:
I'll seek, to whisper it in thine ear,
Some shore where the Spirit of Silence sleeps;
Where Summer's wave unmurmuring dies,
Nor fay can hear the fountain's gush;
Where, if but a note her night-bird sighs,
The rose saith, chidingly, "Hush, sweet, hush!"

There, amid the deep silence of that hour,
When stars can be heard in ocean dip,
Thyself shall, under some rosy bower,
Sit mute, with thy finger on thy lip:
Like him, the boy, who born among
The flowers that on the Nile-stream blush,
Sits ever thus -- his only song
To earth and heaven, "Hush, all, hush!"

poem by Thomas Moore
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Moon Glow

The darkest night, flows with a
wind hush through open blackness.
Ya'ever see the moon glow?
Ya' ever hear the wind whisper?
Rivulets spill with water
across the mountain plains;
as liquid rolls down along the steep slope-
ya'ever see the moon glow?
Ya' ever hear the wind whisper?
Stars glitter through sparkles
of the darkest night.
Wind cold breeze swifts;
swiftly into space.
Laughter engulfs the moon light.
Ya' ever see the moon glow?
Ya' ever hear the wind whisper?
Moon light angles corners,
as sweet melodies swell into air,
of silence.
You ever sight the bird dance,
as shadow flicker
upon the moon?
Ya' ever see the moon glow?
Ya' ever hear the wind whisper?

poem by Celine Berghmans
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Fundamental of Liar Chapter XCVIII: Absolutely Relative

Expensive is absolute, cheap is relative
Far is absolute, near is relative
Ugly is absolute, beauty is relative
Weird is absolute, crazy is relative
Stubborn is absolute, brave is relative
Stupid is absolute, smart is relative
Weak is absolute, strong is relative
Old is absolute, mature is relative
Lose is absolute, win is relative
Rich is absolute, poor is relative
Sad is absolute, happy is relative
Misfortune is absolute, lucky is relative
Safe is absolute, fear is relative
Love is absolute, hate is relative
Important is absolute, forgotten is relative
Easy is absolute, difficult is relative
Wrong is absolute, right is relative
Bad is absolute, good is relative
Lie is absolute, truth is relative

poem by Maria Sudibyo
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Under My Skin

(john farrar)
Every night when youre as mean
As a ladder with a broken wrung
When I know youre sorry wont make it
From your heart to your tongue
There are nights when you keep pushing me
And I wont go on
cause when I get mad enough darlin
I will be standing my ground
But on a night like this I know I cant win
I know my soul will burn and blister
When you slide your silky whisper under my skin, oh, under my skin
When you slide your silky whisper under my skin
There are nights when every kiss
Is an order than I can obey
And I can taste the life comin
From a mile away
There are nights when you keep holdin me
But your arms are too tight
And I dont need what I want
cause what I want just dont feel right
But on a night like this I know I cant win
I know my soul will burn and blister
When you slide your silky whisper under my skin, oh, under my skin
When you slide your silky whisper under my skin
Everywhere that I go I hear your name
Spoken in whispers, spoken in shame
In shame
But on a night like this I know I cant win
I know my soul will burn and blister
When you slide your silky whisper under my skin, yeah, under my skin
Come and slide your whisper under my skin
Come and slide your whisper under my skin
Under my skin, ooh under my skin
Come and slide your whisper (under my skin)

song performed by by Olivia Newton-John
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Mind Dance

I caught my reflection in the mirror
It was my own hand that ran through my hair,
I listened as my favorite artist crooned
Closed my eyes
Imagined your touch
There in the warmth of your lap,
I rest my head
My eyes stay closed
Your hand
The hand of love and warmth
Gently caresses my face,
My mouth
And slowly
Your fingers run through my hair
From the base of my roots
to the tips of the strand
You touch me,
And I am whole.

poem by Nancy Fischer
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Vespers

Little Boy kneels at the foot of the bed,
Droops on the little hands little gold head.
Hush! Hush! Whisper who dares!
Christopher Robin is saying his prayers.

God bless Mummy. I know that's right.
Wasn't it fun in the bath to-night?
The cold's so cold, and the hot's so hot.
Oh! God bless Daddy - I quite forgot.

If I open my fingers a little bit more,
I can see Nanny's dressing-gown on the door.
It's a beautiful blue, but it hasn't a hood.
Oh! God bless Nanny and make her good.

Mine has a hood, and I lie in bed,
And pull the hood right over my head,
And I shut my eyes, and I curl up small,
And nobody knows that I'm there at all.

Oh! Thank you, God, for a lovely day.
And what was the other I had to say?
I said 'Bless Daddy,' so what can it be?
Oh! Now I remember it. God bless Me.

Little Boy kneels at the foot of the bed,
Droops on the little hands little gold head.
Hush! Hush! Whisper who dares!
Christopher Robin is saying his prayers.

poem by Alan Alexander Milne
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Where Is The Love?

where is the love?

you ask me when i kiss you
you doubt the warmth of my lips
the truthfulness of my arms
the civility of my fingers
the trustworthiness of my hands

where is the love?

you look into my eyes
like you are a woman swimming in my river
you feel the coldness of my waters
the silence of my stones
the calmness of my sands
the coyness of my fish and snails

where is the love?

you ask me
you find the lotus without a flower
you find the driftwood on the water

my love, try finding love in the sky above

do you see love in the sun?
do you feel love with the moon?
do you hear the love from the tiny stars?

tell me.

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Red sun, black air, tiny lights of the city

Red glowing sun, fire, flames, hot spittles
To the tiny lights of the city, this city of sin,
Black air that we breathe, smoke rising from
Our hair, warmth from our armpits, sighs and
Quivers, the longings that never stop, and the
Rain that fall heavily today, our thirsts still
Thirsting, our hungers still hungry, our instincts
For destruction coming out from our throats and
Hands, we can do more than what Is expected

We break some twigs, we pluck some flowers
We never thought about the problem of how
To reconnect twigs and flowers and scents

God creates, and we are so hardheaded
Ours is always to destroy and then leave.

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Eyes Of A Child

The Eyes of a Child, so innocent and pure
A Child's heart is full of song
Take their tiny hands,
And lead them to the light
As Adults we see the pain in the world,
And sometimes it don't seem right.
But through the Eyes of a Child
The World seems magical
There's a sparkle in their eyes,
They've yet to realise,
The darkness in their soul.
..the Beauty of their smile
Adventurous and wild.
Life is kinda gay,
but it doesn't seem that way,
Through the Eyes of a Child.
So, don't give up
Even when the road seems long
Just find that child inside you
You've got to find you.
Spread your wings and fly, to the brightest star
If ya want, I can even get my friend Steve to detail your car
for about twenty bucks.
Through the Eyes of a Child
The World seems magical
There's a sparkle in their eyes,
They've yet to realise,
The darkness in their soul.
The Beauty of their smile,
Adventurous and wild.
Sure, life is kinda gay,
but it doesn't seem that way,
Through the Eyes of a Child.
Got an eye on my hand!
I've got an eye on my hand!
I've got an eye on my hand!
But still i cant find you!
An eye on my hand!
Where have you gone girl?
An eye on my hand!
I'm coming up behind you.
Eye on my hand!
Don't turn around now,
Cause I'm right there,
I'm coming up behind you!
Through the Eyes of a Child
The World seems magical
There's a sparkle in their eyes,
We've yet to realise,
The bastards they really are!
The Beauty of their smile,
Adventurous and wild.
Sure, life is kinda gay,
But it doesn't seem that way,
Through the Eyes of a Child.
Sure, life is kinda gay,
but it doesn't seem that way,
Through the Eyes of a Child.

song performed by by Michael Mcdonald
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Depressed Friend

breath as heavy as brick
sighs as light as feather
shoulder burden as heavy as steel
abs corrugated like roof
a face as thick as elephant skin
bones rattling like a snake
thirst as dry as sand
wrinkles like waves of the sea
jaws drooping like a fall

that is what you are my friend.
you need badly a
bath.

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Longing For You

Breaths mix, mingle
Become infused in warmth
Softness, taste and texture.
Hands reach out to touch
Silky hair and
Soft smooth perfumed skin.
First kisses are always so memorable
So passionate.
I watch the new lovers
Wanting
Wanting to climb into each others' clothes
Into each others' skin.
I watch her hold on to his thick coat collar
Those tiny fists full of lambswool
So full of fire.
I watch him holding her at her waist
Wanting to bring her closer but afraid to
Needing to hold on to something so he won't drown..
Get lost in her.
I watch them
Oblivious of the gusty wind
The freezing, numbing rain..
I watch them
And think of you with a longing that tears into me..
They can't hear my elemental anguish.
They don't see my pain as I stand there
Composed.
Watching two lovers in the park..
Under the White Oak Tree..
Where you first undressed me.
Remember that night?
It was summer then..
The night sky was filled with shooting stars
You chased me from near the pond where we were sitting..
Caught me
There..
Where they sit today.
We were laughing so hard
And I fell on you
As you toppled over and took me with you.
I take a deep breath
To replenish me, to give me strength
To keep me from drowning in this memory.
I think I smell your skin
Remember the smoothness and warmth of it..
I lift up my coat collar
And bend my head into the warmth..
I plunge my hands into the silk lined pockets and ball them into tiny fists..
Propel myself forward
Were it not for the pain I feel from the longing
From the wanting of you..
I think I'd be a walking corpse
Numbness would be a comfort.
I glance back as I walk away.
New love is a beautiful thing, a precious gift so full of promise
As I puff smoky breath out into the cold air
I want to cry but I can't
Something catches in my throat
A broken sob perhaps.
First kisses, aren't they magical..
I wonder if you remember or care to recall
Can you still taste
Our first kiss?

poem by Rabia Minhas
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