to GOD
MY lines are to GOD
scratches of the cat's claws
on a wooden pillar of the old
deserted house.
To God my silence is noise
he hears them just like any
ordinary noise on the streets
where dreams are dumped
and stamped and left behind.
To God, my poems are rotten
and he would not care giving
them a second of his infinity.
To God i am just like you,
the anonymous, the leftover
of humanity, the leaf upon a
heap of leaves, the sand among
the oceans of sands in the desert,
a figment of a ray of sunlight,
one of the drops of rain in
the storm, a dust in the galaxies
of planets and stars.
To God, i am nothing.
Deep in my heart however,
I feel that He loves Me.
And so now He listens
and Touches truly me.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
Sonnet: Nature Un-harnessed
Human Beings can’t control wind and sea,
The earth’s spin and whatever it may be;
The magnetic effects of sun and star,
And of planets and galaxies afar.
Nor can he control the rain that befalls,
On the sand dunes in the desert that walls;
The water that flows from mountains so high,
Men and animals that suddenly die!
Nor the newly-formed sands of the seas-shores;
The earthquakes and active volcanoes;
Nor the dew-drops that dot every leaf/frond;
Nor the tad-poles that come out of a pond.
Men can harness Nature to some degree;
Nature’s a Giant for infinity.
poem by John Celes
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Noise
Sometimes we crave silence
but everywhere there is noise.
The intrusive noise of a blaring radio
or children screaming at one another
at the top of their lungs.
All you want is silence
and all you get is
noise, noise and more noise.
2 June 2009
poem by David Harris
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Which Way Will You Go?
Falling leaves
Like fallen stars
Drift away like dreams
Memories fade away
Oceans sweep the sand
Growing older
More mistakes
Trying to reach wishes
Glass dreams break
When they hit the ground
Like loves lost
And lost loves
Scars decorate
Our past
Foot prints in the sand
Lead paths already taken
Will you make your own?
Which way will you go?
poem by Autumn Winds
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Rapids at Night
Here at the roots of the mountains,
Between the sombre legions of cedars and tamaracks,
The rapids charge the ravine:
A little light, cast by foam under starlight,
Wavers about the shimmering stems of the birches:
Here rise up the clangorous sounds of battle,
Immense and mournful.
Far above curves the great dome of darkness
Drawn with the limitless lines of the stars and the planets.
Deep at the core of the tumult,
Deeper than all the voices that cry at the surface,
Dwells one fathomless sound,
Under the hiss and cry, the stroke and the plangent clamour.
O human heart that sleeps,
Wild with rushing dreams and deep with sadness!
The abysmal roar drops into almost silence,
While over its sleep play in various cadence
Innumerous voices crashing in laughter;
Then rising calm, overwhelming,
Slow in power,
Rising supreme in utterance,
It sways, and reconquers and floods all the spaces of silence,
One voice, deep with the sadness,
That dwells at the core of all things.
There by a nest in the glimmering birches,
Speaks a thrush as if startled from slumber,
Dreaming of Southern ricefields,
The moted glow of the amber sunlight,
Where the long ripple roves among the reeds.
Above curves the great dome of darkness,
Scored with the limitless lines of the stars and the planets;
Like the strong palm of God,
Veined with the ancient laws,
Holding a human heart that sleeps,
Wild with rushing dreams and deep with the sadness,
That dwells at the core of all things.
poem by Duncan Campbell Scott
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December When You Turn Again
O! December,
When you turn again this year,
You bring along
The news of the city which I long for.
The city
Where galaxies glimmer of glowworms,
Where the spheres beam
With the colours of butterflies,
Where all-around is the aroma
Of faithfulness.
That one who touches it,
Either with glance, or with fingertips,
Became perfumed for a while.
O! December,
When you turn again this year,
You bring along
The news of the city which I long for,
The city where grains of sand are stars,
The rose and the nightingale,
The moon and the stars,
Are the metaphors of faithfulness,
Where the heart is an ocean,
And gets several banks,
Where the goddess of fortune
Glimmers in the close palms.
O! December,
Ask us not the plight of our city,
Here eyes are grimed
With the dust of caravan passed by,
Here love is like an iceberg,
And grows on the farms of sunlight,
Here when the dawn emerges,
The exhausted dreams of night
Are dumped and begin to thaw,
Here splinters of broken passion
Prick in the eyes, here we weave
Golden dreams by dipping
Lashes into the blood of hearts,
Then live and die
Amid those fascinations.
Though it is impossible to stitch
The tattered soul yet,
O! December do come and bring along,
The news of the city which I long for.
By Fakhira Batool Translated By Muhammad Shanazar
poem by Muhammad Shanazar
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Noise
Dads stuck in the factory, machines are banging all around.
Mommas in the kitchen, she got the radio on all the time.
My little sisters screaming, and stamping on the ground.
And the radio keeps pumping out the same old boring sound.
All I hear is noise.
Cant get away from the noise.
Can you hear me above the noise?
Can you, can you, can you, can you, can you, can you hear me?
Can you hear the noise? (noise)
Cant get away from the noise. (noise)
Can you hear me above the noise? (noise)
Can you, can you, can you, can you, can you, can you hear me?
Banging in my ears, in every direction.
Listen to the roar, hear that city[? ], poundin, poundin.
There oughta be a law, hey buddy, turn that radio down.
Sometimes I get used to it and I forget that its around.
But all I hear is noise. (noise)
Cant get away from noise. (noise)
Can you hear me above the noise? (noise)
All of this confusion is ruining my day.
Let the noise be like the sunset, and slowly fade away.
Fading, fade.
Girl, I want to build a better world for me and you.
I wanna pull out all the plugs before I finally blow my fuse.
Wish all the confusion would slowly fade away.
Id tell you that I love you, but you dont hear what I way.
All you hear is noise. (noise)
Cant get away from noise. (noise)
Can you hear me above the noise? (noise)
Can you, can you, can you, can you, can you, can you hear me?
Noise in the street, theyre digging up the pavement.
Noise in the air, those traffic jams are everywhere.
Noise on noise, to cover up the noise.
The pressures building up because theres no way to avoid,
All the noise. (noise)
Cant get away from noise. (noise)
Can you hear me above the noise? (noise)
All of this confusion is ruining my day.
Let the noise be like the sunset, and slowly fade away.
Fading, fading.
song performed by by Kinks
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Learning To Love The Noise And All That Stuff...
at first i hate the noise
of motorcycles passing by the house
the screeching sound of the engine
is bombarding my eardrums
to pieces,
somehow, it is the adaptability gene in me
that survives
whatever the situation is
one must easily learn to accept
lest you
perish from the face of this earth
choking yourself with
disappointments
somewhere, i dream
not of silence but of noise
noise has a role too to play
in the deletion of
whatever noisy memory we have
that keeps
wrecking our
impulsive hearts
and then i learn to love noise and everything
that comes my way
sort of
meet noise with noise instead of silence sort of stuff
learning to be what i am in whatever place i may find myself
for in truth
i can do nothing about it
and so i let it be
but nothing nobody shall never destroy me
instead i must embrace them all
and to defeat all their attempts to put an end
to my struggles
(to be free or whatever...)
i sort of
embrace every strange moment
with all the love
that i can
possible give
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Lucy Cant Dance
Lucy I know what youre going to going to do
Oh lucy look what youre doing Im doing it too
Now youre looking for God in exciting new ways
I say trust him at once which is something these days
Lucy cant dance to the noise but she knows what the noise can do
Lucy cant dance to the noise but she knows what the noise can do
Did the world just explode?
Dont recognize anyone
But youve still got me under your thumb
Lucy cant dance to the noise but she knows what the noise can do
Oh oh oh
Lucy cant dance to the noise but she knows what the noise can do
Theres tooling your frenzy in the tole savoy
And the sexual noise which is caught up a toy
You live and you die in the blink of an eye
Well I cant make you dance
Lucy cant dance
Dance to the noise
Lucy cant dance but she knows what the noise can do
Lucy cant dance
Dance to the noise
Lucy cant dance but she knows what the noise can
Lucy cant dance but she knows what the noise can
Lucy cant dance but she knows what the noise can do
Lucy cant dance
Lucy cant dance
Lucy I know what youre going to going to do
But you cant buy me off in the stirial (? ) world
Who who who died and made you material girl?
Lucy cant dance to the noise but she knows what the noise can do
So Ill spin while my lunatic lyric goes wrong
Guess Ill put all my eggs in a postmodern song
Lucy cant dance to the noise but she knows what the noise can do
Of the show of the fine reality
Just a few simple words like I love you, I need you
Live and to die in the blink of an eye
Still I cant make you dance
Lucy cant dance
Dance to the noise
Lucy cant dance but she knows what the noise can do
Lucy cant dance
Dance to the noise
Lucy cant dance but she knows what the noise can
Lucy cant dance but she knows what the noise can
Lucy cant dance but she knows what the noise can
Lucy cant dance but she knows what the noise can do
Can do
Lucy I know what youre going to going to do
Lucy I know what youre going to going to do
Lucy cant dance
Lucy cant dance
Lucy I know what youre going to going to do
song performed by by David Bowie
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Noise
From it there's no escape
it is everywhere
noise, noise, noise.
The moment you arise
till you go to sleep
it fills your head.
Cars and lorries drive by
bloody noisy Pigeons cooing
stereo's at full blast.
Drilling in the road
alarms going off
sirens wailing.
Kids screaming
Helicopter overhead
sound of breaking glass.
Noisy neighbours
doors slamming
dogs loud barking.
Even when asleep
noises in your head
you can't escape it.
Noise of wildlife
from tiny insects
to birds in the trees.
Noise can send you mad
it can get into the brain
noise is everywhere.
Silence is deafening
a whisper is like
a thunder clap.
Noise, noise, noise,
is everywhere
from it no escape.
Is it silent in the grave
does noise go with you
is noise eternal?
poem by Kevin Halls
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The Inner Silence
Noises that strive to tear
Earth's mantle soft of air
And break upon the stillness where it dwells:
The noise of battle and the noise of prayer,
The cooing noise of love that softly tells
Joy's brevity, the brazen noise of laughter—
All these affront me not, nor echo after
Through the long memories.
They may not enter the deep chamber where
Forever silence is.
Silence more soft than spring hides in the ground
Beneath her budding flowers;
Silence more rich than ever was the sound
Of harps through long warm hours,
'Tis like a hidden vastness, even as though
Great suns might there beat out their measures slow
Nor break the hush mightier than they.
There do I dwell eternally,
There where no thought may follow me,
Nor stillest dreams whose pinions plume the way.
poem by Harriet Monroe
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In Silent Winds
In that darkness lurking in-between
Deep sleeps and hazy waking
There resides a clear and clean
Whisper of brisk air that has me quaking
Like dark sand running through my fingers
Like water dripping from the leaves of nettle stingers
Smooth and rushing
This dark sand silently gushing
Like the stars in the sky lament
Shining and dark with every twinkling moment
The dark sands of a beach far away
Rushing in the oceans waters astray
Waking once red embers, now black
Like death, revived to enkindle
My heart, the strings have gone slack
Dark sand repair, filling the spindle
The one that holds the flame, it dwindled
Reclaiming that pain so aptly swindled
The peace of mind and half of my light
The candle flickers in black and white
In silent winds, taken aback,
Sweet were those dreams that attack
Sewed into the present and past
Somewhere with dark sands so vast.
poem by Deep Dark Soul Poet
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A Few Advices To A Nephew Studying The Science Of Psychology
you say you want noise
so much noise in fact
in the middle of the night
to bury the boredom reigning in yourself.
i wonder if you have consulted the gods and goddesses of poertry.
if you have gone at the entrance of its temples.
one does not need noise to expunge boredom.
one needs only silence.
you tell me i am different. Sort of telling me you are different
and you belong to the wonders of your youth.
i am telling you, you are wrong my dear nephew.
you have taken so much noise, and you are lost.
you have disregarded the voice of your heart
and the furies will take the revenge.
the noise will take you like the Pied Piper of Hamelin
to the sea with all the rats and there
they will drown with you.
Take your time. Have fun with so much noise.
When this fails, and i know it will, please come back
and drink the lovely potion of silence.
This is the beginning
of poetry.
Some things are so real, in this poetic imagination.
As she once puts it: an imaginary garden with real toads in them.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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A Camel's Dream
When he deserted me
I deserted water
When I deserted the water,
it lost its shine crying.
Trees were growing dark in their places
in the woods; that evening he came to take me
with him clearing the thick glow of the sunset hues
then came he to make a path a kind of road
At the end of the road
I became the back he can ride
deserting many things I so long have to long for
while I look at the village
through those green trees
with my deep eyes
I saw him waiving at me
to bid me goodbye.
I was already entering the desert
and a portion of his road became the whole
the entire road for me.
For the borders of the nation he ruled
were the horizons of the four directions,
the sand hills I walk on with him on my back
were always the initial spot I had departed.
Numerous mornings and evenings met
on the rooftops of the sandhills where the
next morning and the sun crossed.
Originally what he wanted from me
was some amount of water he could use,
always in the shape of the water
I obeyed him.
At the same speed as the sunlight speedy
falls on the ground, stars fell.
With the power of the star-falls
the water soaked itself down to the ground
and then to
the roots of the sands.
Whenever his forehead shined
with full of heavenly words
and thirstied,
I dug up the roots of the sands
where the water gathers and kept it
in my body.
When the sun rose,
everything except the sands were
under the power of the sun;
when the wind blew,
everything along with the sands were
under the windy flows.
There I took out the water from my body
and washed his dry face.
When he loved me
I had a large amount of waters.
When he was communicating with someone
in heavens,
I listened to the music the sands were making.
Many trees were there with no shadows,
and the worlds I look through those trees were
always moving forward.
Through those trees the wind blew.
The thicket-bushes were weeping
and there came about some animals
who loved the bushes, and the one
who rides on my back
lets things to be ruled ruled
lets things to die dead.
He stands the trees and the animals
that resemble each other on their spots
then he passes by.
In the mean time he took out the water
from my body numerous times
and drank it to cleanse his body.
His songs made the sand hills
create echoes to echo
to ring through the regions afar.
When he finally changed the desert into the sea,
at its open entrance
I began to grow old all alone.
Though I wanted to serve him on the sea
he walked away from me
onto the sea.
Many years have gone by
and come along and
for me not to serve him on the sea
meant to go back to the desert, and
the sea had turned into the desert back again.
At its entrance to the sea,
I could not become a small boat for him.
All day long, I was lonely;
all night long, lonesome for days.
When he left me, I deserted the water,
I deserted again the act of deserting
and by deserting it, I no longer was left
to exist.
poem by by unknown author (22 June 2003), translated by Sangnam Nam
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The Leaking Roof
it is raining and here i am stuck
under the roof of a deserted house
the windows are open
nobody has come to close four windows
looking to the street like an insomniac,
the door is creaky like a sore throat
sounding like an incurable allergic sneeze
the crazy wind bangs it from time to time
and i do not mind the routine of noise
for a while a walk to and fro
like i am making a picket
observing the details of how a deserted house
can look like
or feel like: there seems to be a growling silence
abbreviating itself like a scream
cut short by my hands kept inside my pocket
i look up and see the leaking roof
making a rhythm of the dripping beat
of this poem.
i have nothing in mind, i am empty
and emptying still. I take in so much quantity
of silence, the weight of thoughts,
the silly purposeless probe
of what i am suppose to be and where i must be going
after this temporariness of loafing.
The rain stops. I am leaving.
The rhythm ceases.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Where The Streets Have No Name
I want to run
I want to hide
I want to tear down the walls
That hold me inside
I want to reach out
And touch the flame
Where the streets have no name
I want to feel, sunlight on my face
I see that dust cloud disappear without a trace
I want to take shelter from the poison rain
Where the streets have no name
Where the streets have no name
Where the streets have no name
We're still building
Then burning down love, burning down love
And when I go there
I go there with you...
It's all I can do
The cities a flood
And our love it turns to rust
We're beaten and blown by the wind
We're trampled in dust
I'll show you a place
High on a desert plain
Where the streets have no name
Where the steeets have no name
Where the steeets have no name
Still building
Then burning down love
We're burning down love
And when I go there
I go there with you
It's all I can do
song performed by by Vanessa Carlton
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Rain Drops
If the rain drops,
It doesn't fall on one man's head;
So, this poem is about to make you learn.
If the rain drops were sticks of cigarettes,
Many of us will smoke to death;
If the rain drops were bullets from heaven,
Many of us will dropp dead at once;
If the rain drops were roses of love,
Many of us will make love one night;
If the rain drops were trees,
Many of us will sleep on them;
If the rain drops were stones,
Many of us will be admitted in the hospitals;
If the rain drops were men,
Many women will fight for them;
If the rain drops were women,
Many men will kill for them;
If the rain drops were birds,
Many of us will learn to fly;
If the rain drops were acid,
Many of us will be admitted in hell;
If the rain drops were flowers,
Many of us will beautify our homes;
If the rain drops were spies,
Many of us will be exposed of our nakedness;
If the rain drops were guns,
Many of us will join the Third World War;
If the rain drops were teachers,
Many of us will be well educated;
If the rain drops were students,
Many of us will still roam the streets;
If the rain drops were parents,
Many of us will be at home;
If the rain drops were bicycles,
Many of the cars will be grounded;
If the rain drops were diamonds,
Many of the mines will be closed down;
If the rain drops were candies,
Many of us will visit the toilet;
If the rain drops were houses,
Many of us will not be homeless;
If the rain drops were Whites,
Many of the Blacks will not be seen;
If the rain drops were Blacks,
Many of the Whites will not be heard of;
If the rain drops were envelopes,
Many of the post offices will work overtime;
If the rain drops were Television Sets,
Many of us will be glued to them;
If the rain drops were Human Beings,
Many of the Planets will be repositioned;
If the rain drops were Computers,
Many of the hackers will be exposed;
If the rain drops were Cell-Phones,
Many of us will be very sincere;
If the rain drops were Elephants,
Many of us will die while the earth tilts off its axis;
If the rain drops were bananas,
Many of us will turn out to be monkeys;
If the rain drops were monies,
Many Banks will be folded up;
If the rain drops were Babies,
Many of us will go for Family Planning;
If the rain drops were melodies,
Many of us will come out and dance;
If the rain drops were singers,
Many of us will record our songs;
If the rain drops were clothes,
Many of us will cover our nakedness;
If the rain drops were Bibles,
Many of the Churches will speak the truth;
If the rain drops were herbs,
Many of us will not be sick;
If the rain drops were meat,
Many of us will become fools;
If the rain drops were apples,
Many of us will have very soft lips;
If the rain drops were Poems,
Many of us will love the art;
If the rain drops were boxers,
Many of us will walk around with one eye;
If the rain drops were naked women,
Many men will easily get accidents;
If the rain drops were naked men,
Many women will laugh at them;
If the rain drops were Tribesheads,
Many of us will be the subjects to them;
If the rain drops were History Books,
Many of the False Writers will be exposed;
If the rain drops were footballers,
Many of us will score a goal;
If the rain drops were Taxes,
Many of us will not hide from them;
If the rain drops were canes,
Many of us will obey the law;
If the rain drops were needles,
Many of us will not escape from injections;
Oh yes, if the rain falls, it dosen't fall on one man's house.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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Leaves (thread)
under the dogwood
leaves cover
a cat’s grave
early spring
one leaf still dangles
from the tree
palmistry
dew drops on a leaf
pick a vein
widow’s diary
pressed rose petal
the last leaf
with the rain drops
leaves flutter to the ground
fall showers
fallen leaves
circusing in the grass
merry-go-wind
October shower
leaves in the gutter
disembark
leaves changing colors
across the landscape
season's chameleons
morning rain
under maple leaves
tap my shoulder
leaves ripple
with melodies
cicadas song
These were published online by Sketchbook. See September/October “leaves” Haiku thread:
poem by Ben Gieske
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Dancing In The Moonlight
Walking in the rain far away from nowhere.
No more noise, just silence and the music thats in my brain.
Walking through the night, a different atmosphere.
No more noise, just silence and the sound thats in my ear.
Im just dancing, dancing in the moonlight.
Im dancing, dancing in the moonlight.
Walking down the hill listening to the trees.
No more noise, just silence and the raindrops on my shoes.
Walking down the beach sparkling lights on the water.
No more noise, just silence and by the way Im feeling free.
Im dancing, dancing in the moonlight.
Im dancing, dancing in the moonlight.
Im dancing, dancing in the moonlight.
Im dancing, dancing in the moonlight.
Im just dancing, dancing in the moonlight.
Im dancing, dancing in the moonlight.
Im dancing, dancing in the moonlight.
Im dancing, dancing in the moonlight.
song performed by by Scooter
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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what do we do to Mother Earth?
do not burn
let the leaves fall to the ground
let them stay there
layer by layer
heap upon heap
let mother earth
hug all the leaves
let the affection be
strong and heavy
let the leaves die
and rot and become
water and become dust
to dust
let all of us see this dust
we shall do what mother earth
and nature loves best
to dust we shall return
and be its permanent part
close to the bosom
of mother earth
forever
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Mist
i do not wish to dirty the white veil
that covers the face of the one i love
truly as i kiss the white skin, i do not wish
to shed a tear, to spoil the purity of my intentions
my heart bleeds as you say
i do not love you for how can i really love you? how can i?
i understand how the planets move, how this galaxy takes care of its course,
there shall be no change
of direction, whatever, whether the reason be
the magical love, the fantasy of being, the all-out giving with nothing left,
a love so pure equated with zero, when you give everything, when you
crumple like a leaf, when you are consumed by the strong blow
of a sigh
i have loved you all my life and i have given everything i am all for you
what more do you need of my stupidity? you are the whirlpool
sucking all that i have, and i have let it that way
for nothing.
how can you ever love me? i too ask that, and i know the answer, but
unlike the planets and the stars and the galaxy
not swayed by pain or bliss,
i know the answer and i give back what i have taken.
i give back silence, and then i bow and then i die and then i am gone.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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