Walk The Talk
where do you live?
i ask him
'i live there' he says,
pointing to a far place
it is a greenery, a forest opaque to the mist,
there is a path that leads there
on bare feet, and without any burden
to carry on
your back,
he says he is an honest man
and shall live with it for many years to come
he says he comes from a family of honest genealogy
and he thrives on simple living and word of honor
his face has a very gentle disposition
like that of the
common lamb
his words are soft
like a rose that you enclose with your hand
before he left for his intended journey
i had a bowl of rice and a
dried fish in my kitchen
i almost believe him
until my bowl of rice
and dried fish are all gone.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Related quotes
Varied Menu
Chicken and rice.
Fish and rice.
Rice and chicken.
Rice and fish.
Varied menu - 'ish!
Nice jungle place.
There's plenty of space.
Fresh clean air
But that dietary pair,
Fish or chicken
.....Not again!
So more trekking with a frown
Back to Georgetown.....
poem by George BernardBloodyShaw
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The Fish In The Fishbowl...
i see fish in a bowl
the size of the fish is just
enough for the bowl
and water is half-full
the fish swims freely and
breathes
air and lets it pass through
its lungs and three bubbles
rise up
and then disappears
at the surface
outside the house it is raining
heavily
the news of the river overflowing
the banks
is flashed on tv
warnings are given by the government
evacuation is eminent
carry only those which are necessary
foremost
save lives of the children and
the old sector
we are ready
we are not taking this fish bowl
the fish can take of itself
when we left
the fish flips its fins and breathes faster
releasing more bubbles on the surface of the water
it is the only creature i think
that is happy.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Gold Fish Bowl
(Instrumental & sax into)
What will it take for them to leave me alone?
Don't they know I'm just a guy who sings songs?
I'm not promoting no hit record
And I don't have no t.v. show
An' I don't have no reason
To live in the gold fish bowl
I'm just doin' my gigs
An' I'm on an' off the road
Ev'rything I say is not meant to be
Set in stone
Just because they call me a celebrity
That does not make it true
'Cause I don't believe in the myth, people
So, why should you?
Jazz, blues and funk
That's not rock an' roll
Folk with a beat an
Little bit a soul
I don't have no hit record
I don't have no t.v. show
Tell me, why should I have to
Live in this gold fish bowl?
(Instrumental and organ)
Well, the parasites and psychic vampires
Feeding on the public at large
Projectin' the shadow
Onto everyone at us
Well, the newspaper barons
Are scum of the lowest degree
And they prey on ev'rybody
They prey on you an' me
I'm singin' jazz, blues and funk
Baby, that's not rock an' roll
An' folk with a beat
An' a little bit a soul
I don't have no hit record
I don't have no t.v. show
So, why should I want to
Live in this gold fish bowl?
(Instrumental & sax)
So why should I want to
Live in this gold fish bowl?
song performed by by Van Morrison
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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At The Farm
there is this world of farmworkers
riceplanters and coconut gatherers
they have a language of their own,
their dreams so earthbound and
so unlike our sophistications,
they talk about what to eat
only for this day, their desserts
plain sugar chunks, their main
dish just plain rice, their drinks
just plain water from the well
and their feast, a bowl of
extra rice and two pieces of
dried fish, and they talk about
their sunday dance with the
banana vendors and the
charms of the housemaids
at the north end of the barrio.
simple dreams of day to
day existences of what is
just within their grasp and
hold: just today and no
peeping about what
tomorrow may bring.
and yet, i see them, they
laugh the hardest in the
fields and talk about sex
without restraints, and
i must agree: they are
happier than all of us
on this earth combined.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Simplicity
before a table
a cup of rice and
few pieces of fish
you put your knee
near your mouth
as you mold
sticky white rice
with your bare hands
you open your mouth
and swallow what
you have inorder
to live.
(shall i say
poverty?)
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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122
simplicity
before a table
a cup of rice and
few pieces of fish
you put your knee
near your mouth
as you mold
sticky white rice
with your bare hands
you open your mouth
and swallow what
you have in order
to live.
(shall i say
poverty?)
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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In My Island...
there is no regret having stayed
in this humble land of my
forefathers,
there are no chocolates,
no green money,
nothing of those jumbo hot-dogs
and burgers and hams and sandwiches
no coffee or tea
nothing of those cakes and wheat breads
plain potatoes and dried fish
and staple rice
no earthquakes, no volcanic eruptions,
no tsunamis
i am not stuck in here
we live here
forever.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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What Do I Really Need?
upon a dining table
i too, ask myself,
what do i really need?
one fried dried fish
a cup of steamed brown rice
a pinch of salt
five drops of coconut vinegar
a glass of water
and then the much needed
rest for the night
& with you
my bare hands
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Only The Bowl!
i am only the bowl!
i am not the rice.
i am not the fire.
i am not the rain,
nor the sun that gave.
i am not the fertile earth.
i am not the human hands
that gathered, that prepared...
i am not even the hand that offers.
i am not the table, not the chair,
i am not the spoon.
when day is done,
and my place is known...
i am only the bowl!
poem by Eric Cockrell
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Fish And Rice
Daniel phoned me today
with his usual two year old exuberance
which comes naturally when you are two
and comes naturally when you're fifty two
until you extinguish it with old damp habits,
and he said
'Fish! Fish! I like fish very much!
Daddy, fan fan, fan fan', (Chinese for rice)
and yes Daniel has already mastered
three languages, English, Mandarin and enthusiasm
the last of which he is most adept at.
Well I thought he was enjoying his fish supper
but not so, and I should have known,
this exuberance could not be the result of food
unless perhaps a rare taste
of smooth creamy chocolate.
No he was feeding fish,
fish with an appetite for rice?
No, but no one had told him the ingredients of fish food
or me for that matter
and of course he was right,
as far as the fish are concerned
this was indeed the rice of life.
And he was now suddenly very upset
standing in the corner, arms folded, despondent
what happened? I asked
I am told by my reporting wife
that there had been a message I had missed,
and should have known.
Feeding fish is more essential for happiness
than eating fish,
and on his return home, freely swimming happy fish
should be waiting for his love and bliss.
poem by David Taylor
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Nameless!
if the wind took a body,
would it wear your face?
if it inhabited stone,
would you use it to build temples,
to worship in?
or simple walkways
for your soul to walk?
if it became anger,
would it sweep away
the violent guns of war?
if it became compassion,
would it turn rivers
to find those that thirst?
if it became a bowl,
would you fill it with rice?
if it became rice,
would you be the bowl?
if it became kindness,
would it sing to those alone?
would it blow away the tears
of the helpless and hopeless?
would it fill the empty
with that which cannot be held?
if it revealed itself as god,
would you try to capture it with form?
that which is free cannot be contained.
that which is spirit cannot be defined.
that which is limitless cannot be limited....
that which is nameless cannot be named!
poem by Eric Cockrell
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Caring For a Dead Fish
When the cupboard is bare
And the cat’s had the cream,
Who cares about a dead fish?
When the house is on fire
And the birds have all flown,
Who cares about a dead fish?
When your loved ones have gone
And you’re left all alone,
Who cares about a dead fish?
When the seas have dried up
And the land is all desert,
Who cares about a dead fish?
When the Sun has gone Nova
And we’re all blown to bits,
Who cares about a dead fish?
When it’s all empty space
And there’s nothing at all,
Even a dead fish would be worth caring about.
poem by Pete Crowther
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Patterned By Christ
I want to live my life every day, pointing others to a better way,
In how to live their daily life, through the power of Jesus Christ,
To live in that way prescribed, by Jesus Christ, before He died,
For all believers Christ did give, the pattern of how we’re to live.
Just how to live our life for God, while we’re on this earthly sod,
A life to glorify our Risen King, through every day in everything,
For this life isn’t intended me, but for pointing others to eternity,
Where we’ll live forever friend; in a life with God that has no end.
I live this life not on my own, but with power from God’s Throne,
This as I live my life for Him, the one who saved me from my sin,
A life at first you don’t chose, but once you start you can’t lose,
As living each day for the Lord, produces for one untold reward.
Living no longer for yourself, creates a sense of spiritual wealth,
Learning to live a day at a time, produces in one, peace of mind,
Following that pattern left for us, in The Father, I learned to trust,
While in my life God does for me, so much more than I can see.
The only one I choose to follow, in the world so dark and hollow,
As God fills all that emptiness, with The Savior’s Righteousness,
While the pattern Christ left for man, leads to God’s Eternal Plan,
In a coming life we’ve yet to see, that will begin for us in Eternity.
(Copyright ©07/2008)
Futile is Life if Swapped!
A fish out of its water-bowl!
A Pup within a fishes’-bowl!
–Unnatural are both these things,
And life could end for both earthlings!
Fish-gills are meant for oxygen
Dissolved in water and not air;
Pup’s lungs need air to breathe and live;
It can’t stay long under-water!
Fish-fins help it to move about
In water most effortlessly;
A pup can’t be confined without
the needed space to run and play!
All lives are meant for habitats
Specifically pre-destined;
One cannot live a normal life,
With living conditions exchanged!
God made the land for beasts with lungs
To breathe the oxygen in air;
God made the fish cold-blooded to
Swim freely and feed in water.
God made each being with purpose;
Man cannot fly like birds of air;
Nor can he live within water;
Each one must know his/her confines!
Why risk one’s life to do a thing,
Which is not worth the risks, one takes?
Why play with life – a priceless gift
From God above to all earthlings?
The fool endangers his one life
To do something that is worthless;
Great souls will sacrifice their lives
In saving many more brethren!
Life is most precious wealth on earth;
Spend all our wealth to save our health.
Copyright by Dr John Celes 8-5-2008
poem by John Celes
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Just A Traveler
morning have open the mist,
just as the scattered blowing wind, where
hundred of hour past, a hymn of
celebrated feast
of memories to live, thou it never be
the same again i stayed in the road
to live
rock it with sweet mistake, drink with
an honest caprices, and blind me of
laziness for only the good have
to kiss your lips in vain
would be it simple, where the eyes is
close and the spirit is open,
shall all things be past and the present
will lead you to rest;
yes! the tomb is
special and its cloth is made of a linen,
then what makes it a better person when
all are gone and the well is dried
bring me the oil and you shall be burn to
pieces to live...
poem by Antonio Liao
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A Nonsense Poem - a Villanelle
A little mouse sings in a bowl
A little fish runs on a wheel
A little worm hops in a hole
A little hat has lost its sole
A little petal has no peel
A little mouse sings in a bowl
A little dog dances a reel
A little frog jumps on a mole
A little fish runs on a wheel
A little boat rings out a peal
A little bell loses its keel
A little mouse sings in a bowl
A little rock slips on a seal
A little perch walks on a pole
A little fish runs on a wheel
A little card shakes on a deal
A little sigh fancies a meal
A little mouse sings in a bowl
A little fish runs on a wheel
poem by Alison Cassidy
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That Feeling
that feeling of being
a gold fish
inside a round glass bowl
where your world
is only water and
sand
and then hand takes
it and breaks the bowl on the floor
a gold fish wriggles
gasping for air
there is none
do you feel this now?
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Amen, Amen...
for the few grains of rice that i have given you
and for the slice of fish,
God has given me more than what
i have parted,
God has given me a house, a rice granary,
a thousand loaves of bread,
an ocean of fish
plus a book of poems,
plus the nightingale songs
My heart sings praises for Him.
For every grain of rice that i have shared with a hungry neighbor,
God has replenished me with truckloads.
FOR THE FEW cents that i have given as fare for the old woman
who wishes to go home,
God has repaid me money in bundles.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Away The Bowl
Our grateful hearts with temperance burn,
Away, away the bowl,
From dram shops all, our steps we turn,
Away, away the bowl;
Farewell to rum and all its harms,
Farewell the wine-cup's boasted charms,
Away the bowl, away the bowl, away, away the bowl.
See how that staggering drunkard reels!
Away, away the bowl;
Alas, the misery he reveals,
Away, away the bowl;
His children grieve, his wife's in tears!
How sad his once bright home appears!
Away the bowl, away the bowl, away, away the bowl.
We drink no more, nor buy nor sell,
Away, away the bowl!
The grog-shop's offers we repel,
Away, away the bowl.
United in a temperance band,
We 're joined in heart, we 're joined in hand,
Away the bowl, away the bowl, away, away the bowl.
poem by John Pierpont
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Your Stronger Than He Ever Was
When you’re down
And you think you can’t
Get back up without him
Think of your friend
Your family
The ones that love you the most
if you think you need him
To carry on with your burdens
bare in mind we are here
To help carry you to higher ground
if you think you can’t live without
Him who lays waste to your heart
bare in mind we love you
With all our hearts
And will protect you from harm
should you feel down and out
With the misery he causes to your heart
bare in mind we your family
Will be there to mend your broken heart
once you know you can live without him
He who tears the life from your soul
bare in mind we your family
Will be there to bring back
To your home your own living soul
bare in mind we will give back to you
Strength to carry on and make you strong
and when you learn to be strong
When you learn to move on
we smile with pride knowing
You’re stronger than he ever was
poem by Kaila George
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