Waiting For The Time That I Have No More To Say
i am simply waiting
for the time when i have nothing anymore
to say and
then i will just sit there
in the corner looking at the sun
that will no longer rise or set,
not
really static,
it simply passes,
as though nothing happens.
and
when i have nothing more to say
it simply means,
goodbye,
i have freed myself
at last,
from the bondage
of speech from
the opression
of words,
from the anxiety
of the syllable,
from the demands
of certain
letters to finally form
a word,
from the
mandate of a blank slate
searching for
its own meaning
in whatever i speak.
and write
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Related quotes
Dusk and Dying
Dusk purple trees reach out high,
Gently brushing the Cotton Candy sky,
The nostalgic horizon passes by
And time races toward the time to die.
And I cannot help but wonder “But Why”?
Time is simply passing by, passing by,
Passing by….
But does it pause for me? Not I.
For me time simply passes by,
Like these leaves that patch this somber sky,
Time simply passes by
Like these leaves that have dried,
Skipping over the concrete, so spry.
“Simply live and let live! ” I try,
But life and living keep passing me by.
So, as my verse so aptly implies,
Whether I live, or whether I die,
I simply bid you fond goodbyes,
Like the sun as it sinks ‘low the cotton candy skies…
poem by Rachel L. Moore
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Poem: 'A Simple Note
-11. Feb.2006 -
** This poem is about the seriousness of illness such as depression and the event of suicide. It's about the underlying pain that is left in a suicide note, moreso than simply the words that are written.
A tortured soul,
Saying goodbye to the world it loves no more
A simple girl
No more does this life mean anything to her
It’s death she found she’d much prefer
A heart that forever aches
Just wishing for that sweet escape –
That comes with not seeing the car –
Speeding past
That comes from the stolen breath
That forever sighs –
Emptiness
Some simple words
Simply written full of hurt
Full of pain, agony prolonged
A goodbye, this girl will forevermore be gone –
She left few words
Simply sweet
Pointless words in place of torments she cannot speak…
It’s simply not
A simple note…
poem by Rachel Ann Clark
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When I Write These Lines
when i write these lines it is as good as
thrown paper, some words are written but
they are meant to be discarded because they have
occupied much of sadness
worn out memories
overused mumblings
they are meant to be crumpled
and thrown away
this one, this one is not meant to be kept
it is written
but meant simply to be deleted
some words are meant to be said
and be forgotten
because of pain and because they do not mean anything anymore.
goodbye lines, goodbye
take your time, there will be a little waiting
until another fool takes you in
another poet in the state of an inevitable
writer's block
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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An Un Anyone?
Careful
there are Nouns here
which innocently
can
contain your life.
Were it not for 'Un'
all would be lost.
So many of our utterances
not only restrain the brain
but prevent
emphatically
new things being said.
Language is a universe
in which you cannot be understood
unless you already agree
with its assumptions and premises
of right, wrong or the good;
A universe in which you cannot conceive
anything really new
because you do not have the language
to express the idea;
a language which does not yet exist.
So the problem is
how to say something new
when you lack a vocabulary
or utterances?
I don't have a final solution
but I do have a start:
dismantle the current language first
starting with the Noun.
To see the new
we must first Unsee the old-
here my friends lies salvation-
in the utterance Un.
Un-love
Un-done
Un-believe
are an excellent start
because they get us to begin
the unraveling
of that which is wound so tight
that new meaning can't get in.
To continue:
Un isn' t simply the opposite-
it is a pronouncement
a nullification-
a cleaning out-
of that which occupies that noun space
so something new can get in.
Now let's take Un-love.
To Un-love is not to hate
for here
we simply state
we are not in the state of love.
Not so strange,
it happens to all of us.
We simply
one day
fall into Un-love
meaning love has gone away.
Doing this has caused so much misery
yet we have no word or meaning
for what Un-love means.
You see the problem
or should I say the unclarity
that Un-love brings.
If I
one day
suddenly
Un-love you
what does this mean?
Not I suppose
just that love
has gone
but where has it gone to?
In Un-love Land
there is no hate
not even perhaps
indifference
but, perhaps
to an empty space
prompting a need to find new
words, nouns or even vocabularies.
Now you see the problem;
the conundrum here-
no such words currently yet exist-
unless we pause now
to invent new words
to fill that void
and in doing so
create a whole new language
or description of what is meant
by Un-love.
Here my point exactly.
we don't know
what Un-Love means
or its vocabulary
until
some poet
creates the vision
and the new words to
that go with it.
Pointedly:
how do
I now
un-write this poem?
See what I mean?
Can't be done
unless I create
somehow
a vision
and words
to capture it.
Humm,
Consider this the Un-Write.
Maybe it will catch on.
poem by Lonnie Hicks
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Three Little Words
Three little words
Oh what I'd give for that wonderful phrase
To hear those three little words
That's all I'd live for the rest of my days
And what I feel in my heart
They tell sincerely
No other words can tell it half so clear-early
Three little words
Eight little letters
Which simply mean I love you-ou
And what I feel in my heart
They tell sincerely
No other words can tell it half so clear-early
Three little words
Eight little letters
Which simply mean I love you
Simply mean I-I love you-ou
song performed by by Nat King Cole
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Hi... Bye...
hi
one syllable,
two letters, it makes the difference
of being here and
you being there,
hi
and i say hi too to you
crisp, too short, reserved,
as we both wonder what next to say
what is the possibility of
another letter, or word, or perhaps
an incomplete sentence will do the trick
of what that rest must follow...
hi.... and i fall short of meaning and i write...
bye.
three letters
one syllable, sad and
indifferent
it could have asked for some more
but you know
it cannot.....
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Wonderful Christmas Time
Simply having a Wonderful Christmas Time
A Wonderful Christmas Time
A Wonderful Christmas Time
Mood is right
Spirits up
We're here tonight
And that's enough
Simply havng a Wonderful Christmas Time
Simply having a Wonderful Christmas Time
The party's on
The feeling here
It's all because
This time of year
Simply having a Wonderful Christmas Time
Simply having a Wonderful Christmas Time
A Wonderful Christmas Time
A Wonderful Christmas Time
The choir of children
Singing their song
Ding dong
Ding dong
Ding dong
Ding dong
They practice
All night long
Ding dong
Ding dong
Ding dong
Ding dong
The word is out
About the town
To lick your glass
I don't doubt
Simply having a Wonderful Christmas Time
Simply having a Wonderful Christmas Time
Mood is right
Spirits up
We're here tonight
And that's enough
Simply having a Wonderful Christmas Time
x7
song performed by by Hilary Duff
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Simply Alone
Simply alone as an angel cries
Becoming empty as all her
Hope hides
Simply alone she sits by a window
Bearing wishes of death to Un-fold
Hope lies
Simply alone with out her own home
Beside a story of healing worry
Simply alone and simply Un-known
Hope cries
Simply because she is simply alone
Hope hides hope lies hope cries does hope die?
Or does hope again try?
poem by Susan Covington
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The White Lady In The Dark And Narrow Room....
she tells you
this is a sad news
something in you
is not functioning well
and it must be
removed
invasive, he has to think it over
for weeks
without telling anyone
he goes back to the past
pages of his life
he had lived well enough
and there is nothing
to be changed
he did not come back to the white lady
(how can be so sure of what life
is giving
and for her to simply
eradicate it?)
there is this sense of waiting
for nothing
except that feeling that
sooner
it must be approached
calmly
and gently like a fragile
egg that is handed
to your hand
and then suddenly break
it and end it
quickly
simply because you are too eager
to begin anew
on a clean slate you write your name
you age,
a new place now with someone
you can love
you always believe that there is always
a new beginning
for an old ending.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Wonderful Christmastime
The moon is right
The spirits up
Were here tonight
And thats enough
Simply having a wonderful christmastime
Simply having a wonderful christmastime
The partys on
The feelins here
That only comes
This time of year
Simply having a wonderful christmastime
Simply having a wonderful christmastime
The choir of children sing their song
Ding dong, ding dong
Ding dong, ding ohhhh
Ohhhhhhh
Simply having a wonderful christmastime
Simply having a wonderful christmastime
The word is out
About the town
To lift a glass
Ahhh dont look down
Simply having a wonderful christmastime
Simply having a wonderful christmastime
The choir of children sing their song
They practiced all year long
Ding dong, ding dong
Ding dong, ding dong
Ding dong, ding dong
The partys on
The spirits up
Were here tonight
And thats enough
Simply having a wonderful christmastime
Simply having a wonderful christmastime
The moon is right
The spirits up
Were here tonight
And thats enough
Simply having a wonderful christmastime
Simply having a wonderful christmastime
Simply having a wonderful christmastime
Simply having a wonderful christmastime
Ohhhhhhhhhhhhhh
Christmastime
song performed by by Paul McCartney
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Wonderful Christmas
The moon is right
The spirits up
We're here tonight
And that's enough
Simply having a wonderful christmastime
Simply having a wonderful christmastime
The party's on
The feelin's here
That only comes
This time of year
Simply having a wonderful christmastime
Simply having a wonderful christmastime
The choir of children sing their song
Ding dong, ding dong
Ding dong, ding Ohhhh
Ohhhhhhh
Simply having a wonderful christmastime
Simply having a wonderful christmastime
The word is out
About the town
To lift a glass
Ahhh don't look down
Simply having a wonderful christmastime
Simply having a wonderful christmastime
The choir of children sing their song
They practiced all year long
Ding dong, ding dong
Ding dong, ding dong
Ding dong, ding dong
The party's on
The spirits up
We're here tonight
And that's enough
Simply having a wonderful christmastime
Simply having a wonderful christmastime
The moon is right
The spirits up
We're here tonight
And that's enough
Simply having a wonderful christmastime
Simply having a wonderful christmastime
Simply having a wonderful christmastime
Simply having a wonderful christmastime
Ohhhhhhhhh
Christmastime
song performed by by Paul McCartney
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Missing Link
So there you are
The missing link of my life
I was having something
Blank in my mind
And things do not fit
Nothing fits to this “”it”
A square pig
In a hole,
A fish on a hill
A chicken on the sea
A snail in the city
A fan on the freezer
Me to nowhere
You somewhere
For a time I was walking
Without a direction
Without anything in my mind
Things simply do not fit
And there you are
Standing not looking also for
Something specific
And we found ourselves
We fit
We simply talk without bumps
In our throats
We simply enjoy each other’s company
You laugh at my jokes
And I like the way you talk
We fit, now we must live together
I am the thread to your needle’s eye
We fit, you and I
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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339
you are telling me about a stone
who refuses to admit anyone simply
because it has no door, no room and no space
for someone like you,
you who does not even know what knowing someone
really means. you ask the stone for a space and it says no
and you tell the stone that it has a space
where the leaf and a dropp of water live
the stone says no, and you insist because of the state you are in
you are dying and you need a place
perhaps a burial space where you may finally lay yourself
to rest, but the stone still says no, telling you that it has
no feelings that for centuries it has always been its nature
stony, stony silence, stony stares, unfeeling, that in its
house of stone, there exists no word for sympathy
that it is simply living up to the demands of its true nature
its tradition, and you finally understand, yet somehow you
tell the stone about what it does not know
inside it there is this leaf with dew, there is dropp of water
coming from the rain, that until now it has not fully known,
that inside its stony silence, there is still this song
that it has a heart that it keeps denying.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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About A Stone Without A Door
you are telling me about a stone
who refuses to admit anyone simply
because it has no door, no room and no space
for someone like you,
you who does not even know what knowing someone
really means. you ask the stone for a space and it says no
and you tell the stone that it has a space
where the leaf and a dropp of water live
the stone says no, and you insist because of the state you are in
you are dying and you need a place
perhaps a burial space where you may finally lay yourself
to rest, but the stone still says no, telling you that it has
no feelings that for centuries it has always been its nature
stony, stony silence, stony stares, unfeeling, that in its
house of stone, there exists no word for sympathy
that it is simply living up to the demands of its true nature
its tradition, and you finally understand, yet somehow you
tell the stone about what it does not know
inside it there is this leaf with dew, there is dropp of water
coming from the rain, that until now it has not fully known,
that inside its stony silence, there is still this song
that it has a heart that it keeps denying.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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ACT: Goodbye
Girl: Goodbye
I always want to say it in front of you
Goodbye
And there would be no more “I love you”
Goodbye
But why though I really meant to
The pain is still haunting my soul
Guy: Goodbye
You don’t know there’s a mystery inside
Goodbye
You are a fool to quickly decide
Goodbye
When you say something you don’t want to
It will affect you most with regret
Girl: Goodbye means leaving
Guy: Goodbye means nothing
Girl: Goodbye means releasing
Guy: Goodbye means waiting
Girl: And will you forget me after
Guy: Or will I love you forever
Girl: And how if I miss you in the lonely night
Guy: I will torture you to see my face
Girl: It’s over!
Guy: Not yet
Girl: Why are you so stubborn?
Guy: Because you make it complicated
Girl: But there’s no future for us
Guy: There’s always a hope
Girl: Goodbye
I will definitely cry
Goodbye
But the tears are not going to show
Goodbye
I don’t ask to be forgiven
Because I’m the one who put this misery
Guy: Goodbye
You can’t beat me with just that
Goodbye
Don’t judge me because I have the power of
Goodbye
Though I let my beloved go
Someday I’ll bring you to my arm again
Girl: Goodbye means separate
Guy: Goodbye means “I’ll be back”
Girl: Goodbye means finishing
Guy: Goodbye means praying
Girl: And will it make you think
Guy: That you are my precious one
Girl: And when I finally disappear
Guy: That’s the time I realize I’m lost
Girl: Just be a good boy!
Guy: Why should I?
Girl: So I can say farewell
Guy: I won’t let it
Girl: You will be hurt by me
Guy: I’ll hurt more if you leave me
Girl: Goodbye
I will act so rude and cold
Goodbye
You deserved so much better
Goodbye
It’s the easier way to be apart from you
Even it’s full of lie, of lie
Guy: Goodbye
How can I live without you?
Goodbye
I don’t care what other’s said
Goodbye
But you are running away from me
Denying your true feeling
Girl: Goodbye means not anymore
Guy: Goodbye means see you later
Girl: Goodbye means sad ending
Guy: Goodbye means new beginning
Girl: And did I say to you to move on?
Guy: Only you I couldn’t go on
Girl: And someway we have another chance
Guy: I promise that you won’t slip from my fingers
poem by Maria Sudibyo
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Mail Call
The letters always just evade the hand
One skates like a stone into a beam, falls like a bird.
Surely the past from which the letters rise
Is waiting in the future, past the graves?
The soldiers are all haunted by their lives.
Their claims upon their kind are paid in paper
That established a presence, like a smell.
In letters and in dreams they see the world.
They are waiting: and the years contract
To an empty hand, to one unuttered sound --
The soldier simply wishes for his name.
poem by Randall Jarrell
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A Bedbug On My Palm
now the bedbug
finally finds
its place
in one of the lines
of the palm of my hand
its life
depends on the nail of my thumb
its weapon now
is simply being a ball
all its feet
hidden under its spherical wings
it is not praying
it is simply waiting for its death
within a palm
there is no choice
except my own
indecision
poem by Antonio Liao
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It...
IT IS everyday
like everything that you do: waking up
washing the face
brushing the teeth
combing the hair
defecating on the
throne
in the comfort room
taking breakfast
reading the news
watching tv
waiting and going
and coming back
on the table
searching for words
to mark your day
above all those
rantings
take the cure: write, write,
write
they follow you and
read and say something
about you
perhaps it will matter
that your existence
is being confirmed
by all
you too stalk as they
stalk you
it is fair then.
They are your ITs
And you are their
It too.
but actually it would have been
a better world
if we did not write at all.
simply because
we have chosen the
right course:
talking.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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The Underdog And The Stranger
sometimes we simply have to be vulnerable
to be mortal
and it happens when we extend a hand and let the other feel
that your hands are real
with blood and veins and flesh and bones
that when someone gets a sharp knife and slices your wrist
you bleed real blood
because you are not a ghost, a virtual image of somebody else,
because you are not a mannequin or wood,
or someone else appearing in another person's name
vulnerability is humanity, it happens when you walk alone and you
wear your face without a mask, a veil, a hat, a head dress,
it happens when you expose yourself
to someone and you tell him that you are lonely and you need a friend
that the weather is cold and that you need someone to be with
simply to talk without any self-interest at all
then someone laughs at you and even tells that if you keep
following him he will kick you in the ass
that there is simply no possibility of a connection between a hand to another hand
anymore
vulnerability is when you finally accept that other people are strangers too
and they do not have time for any other intrusion
for another stranger like me
vulnerability is simply letting the other person know that you have no other name except your name that you have no other reserved spare tire for
yourself except yourself
that you are yourself and that you are hurt is vulnerability
but that is not the end of it all
vulnerability is also realizing that you are finally human
and that you have learned to live with this humanity
despite the strangeness and the weakness
as others keep the wall within themselves
fortifying fences and excluding
others till the end of night
till another day
and another
night
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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What About Love
[Maxi Jazz]
Come on (3x)
I know you so intimately
Anger and misery
The reason for my heart's fragility
How will it be if you simply set me free
Restore my ability, to hold my head high
To speak only truth where I used to lie
Goodbye to the enemy, it's been too long
Come on
What about love? (5x)
Come on
I know you so intimately
Your heady sensuality
The reason for my heart's fragility
How will it be if you simply come back to me
Restore my stability
Take your fill of me
Finally in step like the military
And just as strong, it's been so long
Come on
What about love? (5x)
song performed by by Faithless
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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