Two Old Friends
when we were children
we were already friends
in the middle of our own poverties,
we struggled to rise from the lowest
echelon. Years passed. And now
we see each other again.
His fingers are filled with diamond
rings, as big as a fist of a child.
His coat is expensive.
Everything in him is expensive now
His car. A picture of his beautiful wife.
A corporate lawyer too in the
city. He will be taking the bill
tonight in this expensive restaurant.
The finest wine. The exotice cuisine.
As usual, I will do the talking,
as always, since then, he had
always been on the side of silence.
Ask him to tell a joke, he says
he has none. Ask him to tell a
story about himself, he says
there is nothing nice about
his past. Ask him about his
present, he says there is nothing
worth talking about himself.
He has all the secrets hidden
inside his silent gazes. He smiles
to every story that i tell. He
likes my company.
Inside my mind, i could have
asked him: how many persons
have been killed in your name?
How many assets are taken
mercilessly from the hands of
your economic foes? What
brain is this that keeps on
acquiring and scheming and
killing who obstructs his way?
He is my friend, as always and
i do not have the right to ask.
The night is over. It is time to
go home. We are on separate cars
now and he tells me, 'take care! '
Sometimes, i ask myself if i understand
what life is all about really. I am home,
And i decided not to preach,
even to myself. I honk the car,
and the gate opens.
It is 3 o'clock
in the morning.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
Just Another Story
Father comes home cos his moneys run out -
Seems a little loose tonight, he starts to shout.
Dinners not on the table, seems mothers not able,
Shes staring at the tv.
You can smell it on his breath, feel it in his touch,
He never meant to hit her hard, but hes like that when hes had too much.
Its just another story bout going too far,
Its just another story bout going too far.
Well the kids at school, shes getting good grades,
But the peer pressures starting now - too bad, she had it made.
Seems theres always someone trying to push you to do something, you know, aint
The way they told you to -
Its hard to see
The things you taught her, how to be, its like you told her nothing, selective
Memory.
Come on try it, its just a smoke, aint gonna kill you, so she takes a toke -
Fade to grey.
Its just another story bout going too far,
Its just another story bout going too far.
Well the guys at work seemed ok, theyd buy you a drink, get you laid, whats
Wrong with that?
Whyd they have more money than you, expensive cars, expensive clothes, dyou
Ever think of what they do?
At night theyre out, shakin people down, when theyre walking together seems
They own the town.
But hey, whos gonna talk, you are their alibi, dont turn around, dont ask
Questions, just walk -
Its just another story bout going too far,
Its just another story bout going too far.
song performed by by Phil Collins
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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My Darling
my love for her always boils down to
money, credit and ATM cards, and
trips and vacations,
expensive clothes, and flashy cars
and a modern house
in the suburbia
she slides
my ATM card, relies on my credit card,
and plans my trip to islands with white sands
and expensive margaritas
she imagines the next trip
in Hongkong, Singapore, Thailand
China,
and Austria, and i jokingly add
the North Pole
just to check how white are the glaciers
and how warm is it
inside the igloo
and the United States of America
Las Vegas, and Texas
and visit some of her friends
in Chicago and California
not to mention her New Yorker
friend from Tondo
expensive dreams of my darling
but i do not really mind,
she will soon pay for all of them
you bet.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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It's So Nice To Be Home
Isn't it nice to be home again
Sitting around the fire with family and friends
Isn't it nice to be home again
It's so nice to be home
My little daughter's sleeping
And the boy is all right
My wife is so lovely
I'll love her tonight
Looking out the window at a new moon’s light
It's so nice to be home
I took old Blue out hunting on a Saturday
We didn't get home until the middle of May
A freaky winter storm went and blocked our way
Old Blue he kept me thinking and a talking 'bout you
And when Blue got down
I’d talk about Bobby and Sue
Together we did what we had to do
To get back home to you
It's so nice to be home.
poem by Steven Sabathie
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Most Expensive Girl In The World
Jimmy was a fly guy with a big mercedes
He thought he could get all type of ladies
He makes a lot of money cause he is a money maker
And if he looks for style he rides jet ski in jamaica
He met this beautiful girl at a bar
And jimmy could swear she looked like a star
He got the the most expensive girl in the world
The most expensive girl
But jimmy didnt listen - yes he didnt
His friends warned him - he thought they must be kiddin
Jimmy felt in love like he never did before
For any kiss he gets she takes him to the store
Every time she buys more than jimmy can carry
So she employed a butler and his name is: larry
He got the the most expensive girl in the world
The most expensive girl
Jimmy is out of money he spent all on his honey
He is searchin for a credit but his friends regret it
He is workin at three jobs but that is not enough
To pay all her needs to pay all her stuff
I saw her later on a luxury ferry
And next to her stood a man named: larry
You got played, boy !
He got the the most expensive girl in the world
The most expensive girl
song performed by by Lou Bega
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Will I
I want to be a celebrity,
Something I‘ve been wishing for,
On cover of the top magazine,
Photographed while on vacation.
Chatting with the president while
Smiling with the residents.
Playing golf in the most expensive hoods.
Living on a large home,
Driving expensive cars and looking well.
Something that we non-Celebes
Will probably never experience.
Will I?
poem by Joram Muinamia
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Love Is Expensive And Free
Written by Tony Scalzo
VERSE
You can talk to me about powder kegs
And how I'm sitting on one right now
You can warn me about candles
and whole things burning from the outside in
But don't tell me about true love
'Cause I don't think you really know
CHORUS
You need to pay the costs
You need to feel the loss
'Cause love is expensive and free
Love is expensive and free
VERSE
Talk to me about appearances
I tell ya' lately they mean less and less
Do your best to keep me occupied
It's hard to concentrate, I must confess
Don't you tell me about heartbreak
'Cause it ain't written in the stars
CHORUS
You need to pay the costs
You need to feel the loss
'Cause love is expensive and free
Love is expensive and free
Alright, you got me
VERSE
Don't you worry 'bout my baby
Her eyes are open all the time
I could never bare to see her
Much less remove her from my mind
I didn't talk to you about true love
I didn't think you'd understand
CHORUS
You need to pay the costs
You need to feel the loss
'Cause love is expensive and free
Love is expensive and free
Love is expensive and free
song performed by by Fastball
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Why Don't You Get A Job
My friend's got a girlfriend
Man he hates that bitch
He tells me every day
He says "man I really gotta lose my chick
In the worst kind of way"
She sits on her ass
He works his hands to the bone
To give her money every payday
But she wants more dinero just to stay at home
Well my friend
You gotta say
I won't pay, I won't pay ya, no way
Why don't you get a job
Say no way, say no way, no way
Why don't you get a job
I guess all his money, well it isn't enough
To keep her bill collectors at bay
I guess all his money, well it isn't enough
Cause that girl's got expensive taste
I won't pay, I won't pay ya, no way
Why don't you get a job
Say no way, say no way, no way
Why don't you get a job
Well I guess it ain't easy doing nothing at all
But hey man free rides just don't come along
every day
Let me tell you about my other friend now
My friend's got a boyfriend, man she hates that dick
She tells me every day
He wants more dinero just to stay at home
Well my friend
You gotta say
song performed by by Offspring
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Love Is Expensive & Free
Written by tony scalzo
Verse
You can talk to me about powder kegs
And how Im sitting on one right now
You can warn me about candles
And whole things burning from the outside in
But dont tell me about true love
cause I dont think you really know
Chorus
You need to pay the costs
You need to feel the loss
cause love is expensive and free
Love is expensive and free
Verse
Talk to me about appearances
I tell ya lately they mean less and less
Do your best to keep me occupied
Its hard to concentrate, I must confess
Dont you tell me about heartbreak
cause it aint written in the stars
Chorus
You need to pay the costs
You need to feel the loss
cause love is expensive and free
Love is expensive and free
Alright, you got me
Verse
Dont you worry bout my baby
Her eyes are open all the time
I could never bare to see her
Much less remove her from my mind
I didnt talk to you about true love
I didnt think youd understand
Chorus
You need to pay the costs
You need to feel the loss
cause love is expensive and free
Love is expensive and free
Love is expensive and free
song performed by by Fastball
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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He Will Stay Tonight
she opens the door
and switches on the light
of the ceiling
she kisses him
and he hugs her
tightly
like a cork
to a bottle of red wine
there is a need
for more sparkles
but the champagne
is too expensive
there is a need
for moonlight
to make tonight
more romantic
but frankly
tonight is the
night
when the storm
comes
when the wind
blows
so hard
when the rain
pours
like cats and dogs
touche!
they will talk
and she will open
up
no not her legs
but her
mind
they will face
each other
with sad eyes
and
pleadings
for forgiveness
this the time
for their last
lovemaking
tomorrow
is another goodbye
and they know
it
there is no more
love
to speak about
inside
the forbidden radius
of their
respective
circles
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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These endless legal challenges that define elections in New York are a joke in this country, and they are the reason why it is so expensive, or one of the reasons, it's so expensive to run here and why so many people decide not to run.
quote by Michael Bloomberg
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Girl That I Met
I met her down streets one evening,
She was coming out of what she calls home,
Where she had left a family,
That is her responsibility,
To provide all the necessities.
She’s a mother and a father,
To the two younger girls at home,
For their parents had passed away,
About four years ago from the disease,
Then she should take care of the family.
There’s no uncles and aunts for them,
All they did was to sweep away everything,
Cars, estates, houses and everything,
Leaving the kids with concrete poverty,
And the children are now suffering.
I asked that orphaned girl how she managed,
To feed the family at her age under eighteen,
She started crying but she dared to tell me,
The story of her everyday life,
The story that keeps on torturing my mind.
She sells drugs down streets every day,
Then selling her body downtown every night,
Making sure she earns something,
To be back with at home for the family to survive,
Family needs shelter, food and clothes.
poem by Fadhy Mtanga
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You must avoid giving hostages to fortune, like getting an expensive wife, an expensive house, and a style of living that never lets you aford the time to take the chance to write what you wish.
quote by Irwin Shaw
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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True To Life
(ferry)
So it gets to seven
And I think of nothing
But living in darkness
And the diamond lady
Well shes not telling
I dont even know her name
Its amazing
Times have changed
In days of old
Imaginationd leave you standing
Out in the could
Dancing city
Now youre talking
But wheres your soul
-youve a thousand faces
Ill never know
There are complications
And compensations
If you know the game
Agitated in xenon nightly
Ill take you home again
Travel way downtown
In search of nothing
But the sky at night
And the diamond lady
Well shes not talking
But thats alright
So I turn the pages
And tell the story
From town to town
People tell me
Be determined
Poor country boy
Too much luck
Means too much trouble
Much time alone
But arm in arm
With my seaside diamond
Ill soon be home
song performed by by Roxy Music
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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To A Friend Of A Friend
a friend of a friend
has been a widow for 20 years
this she reveals when
she hitched in our car
my wife's face is twisted
and she does not speak a lot
we cut the story short
she gives the direction where she will be dropped
like some garbage
i pity her. i really pity her.
at the red gate she waits
no one opens the door
it is 10 o'clock in the evening
the car backs out
finding itself passing again by the same red gate
she sits on the pavement and holds her bag as though it is her only possession
i don't really know if that is her house
does she lie still at this age?
my wife lambastes me like thunder
unable to hold her contained temper
we cut the story shorter
we leave her on her own
whatever that means
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Friendship and Company
He was twenty and she was forty-three,
he was single and lonely,
she was divorced with three children.
What drew them together neither knew.
Both were seeking friendship and company.
He would take her to the pictures occasionally,
sometimes to old films, sometimes to something new.
He would visit her at her home,
sometimes they would play cards,
and other times just sit and watch TV.
Though she was older than he was,
their ages never were mentioned.
It was not a relationship of passion,
just one of friendship and company.
Then came the day she fell ill.
He went to see her constantly.
She broke the news to him one day.
She had breast cancer and had
to have her breast removed.
Into hospital, she had to go.
Finally, she came home,
but needed constant care.
Her sister said she would look after her,
but she would have to move in with her.
Tears were held in check,
as see you later were said.
They would keep in touch,
but somehow both knew,
that this was the last time
they would see each other.
Several years had passed, then one day.
He was getting off a bus,
as her eldest son was about to get on.
He smiled and asked how was his mum.
His answer stopped him in his tracks.
“She passed away two years ago.”
Then the bus was ready to pull away.
He walked solemnly home
with an empty space in his heart.
Getting home, his wife looked at him.
“What is wrong with you? ” She asked.
“I just learnt of the passing of a friend.
The worse part is I never
got the chance to say a final goodbye.”
Later that evening as the sun was about to set.
He went for a walk on his own,
down to the shore to watch the sea.
Looking out at the gentle waves,
he stared out at the sunset.
There was something he wanted to say.
Looking at the heavens.
“Eve, I loved you more than a friend,
but I never had a chance
to say a proper goodbye to you.
Oh Lord look after my friend,
she was a wonderful woman.
I know this story is true,
because it happened to me long ago.
(For Eve Croft/9 August 2007)
poem by David Harris
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Nice Brand New Car...
inside the nice brand new luxury car
(and hence very expensive) rides a body that drives smoothly on the
road to the sin city,
inside the tinted glass window with a remote control
screams his rotten soul....
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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To My New Neighbors
on this morning chat
she says she will be arriving on time
for the halloween
she will be lighting candles for her dead parents
and other relatives of this old town
offer them flowers and prayers that she can muster
she will be bringing her middle child
who starts to write his poems in his notebook
she tells me he is the silent type
the one who can thrive without a conversation
she shifts the topic about the color of the rails of her new house
the verandah is not pink now, it is painted white
and she is asking what flowers fit into the picture
i suggest the bougainvillas, the flowering ones already
sold in the nearby farm by an old lady
she is excited, she will be having us, as neighbors finally
our fence shall be a line of daisies
our yard evergreen, our trees shall be the ones with
perfume: the champacas and the ylang-ylangs
and expectedly, there will be a lot of laughter and
nice conversations of cultured and educated people
whose sense of morality would be high
the chat is quite long, and i decided i have to end it.
i have still other poems inside my mind.Unwritten.
What bothers me, and for which i am really interested
is the poetry of his middle child. I like someone who writes
like me. And i do not need a lot of conversations too.
i like my silence. I love the talk inside my silence.
I will burst.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Picture Of A City
I picture the bright lights
Faces becoming a blur
The sound of a city not sleeping
Sirens and shouts in the distance
Trying to piece together fragments
Of a story I want to understand
Maybe making it up is easier
The hurry and the pace of the city
I’m watching perched on my balcony
Water, ice and whisky in a glass
Perfect company for a winter evening
Sat looking down on mans creations
In the hustle of the night life
Music beats rise and fall and rise again
Always with a changing frequency
Lovers stroll arm in arm casual
Looking through restaurant windows
Fantasy shopping at closed stores
I picture it all going on never ending
The city never sleeping
Bright faces becoming a blur
I picture the city below me
poem by Matthew Holloway
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When your friend gives your wife an expensive present, it's time to get suspicious.
Lost & Found Pt.2 - Found Child
A baby born into addiction,
Fighting for his life before it began.
Held by his mother just once in his life,
Then he is taken from her hands.
Taken to be given a chance
To be healthy outside and in.
A chance to grow big and strong,
Free from his mother's sins.
The child has a family now
And a very loving home.
They took him in for what he was
And raised him as their own.
Years have passed since his birth
And he questions who he really is.
Looking at his loving parents
He knows thier features are not his.
One night with the television on,
And his family sitting around,
The news man tells a story
Of a tragedy across town.
A woman found dead at home.
In her arm was a syringe.
The woman's picture flashed on screen
And made his mother cringe.
He could feel something too;
Some sort of strange connection.
Then he heard a soft whimper
Coming from his mom's direction.
He softly asked her what was wrong.
She couldn't look him in the eye.
She said I have someting to tell you son.
Then she began to cry.
All the questions you asked of us;
If you were ours, or another's.
You see, the woman who died tonight...
She was your true mother.
poem by Joseph A. Solis
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