When Man Writes His Life Away
when sadness comes like
an uninvited guests
and when it stays longer
than you can
have it
just be silent
for silence are like seeds
that sprout on the little rains of
your patience
to grow the flowers of hope
when man writes his life away
overwhelmed by so much sorrow
God steps by the door
waits for you
to open it and then when this is done
God embraces you
the sun shines by the window of your house
the birds chirp again on the surrounding trees
the clouds of baby blue
cover the grasses as green as the pines
scented as perfumes
of your love
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Related quotes
Do Not Ask My Presence
Do not ask my presence
Today or
even tomorrow
The flowers
Bloom, the clouds and sun come
The sea is blue
The sea breezes blow
Sunshines and grasses spread
The birds sing
The fishes swim
The rains come
& waves roll & sea caps
foam
Even without me,
So do not ask for my presence
In all these matters
That manage
Even without me
Without you
Or us,
They manage themselves
Well,
& good enough they fend for themselves
and repair
whatever is broken & heal whatever is
injured or
wounded,
so if you Walk with sadness, it does not
really Matter,
the flowers along the way
still bloom
And blue clouds still drift by,
even if some
Tears fall
From your eyes
And even if you die,
the sun still shines To another bluish sky.
Nature is automated, & to your uniqueness
You are formatted.
That is the real difference, this randomness
Of feelings
This intentionality of what you wish what you
Desire.
i have reasons for my absence
a disappearance
this sense of hiding..........
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Only If You Love (less The 'me')
only if you love
will this stone turn to bread
this water to wine
only if you love
will seeds sprout and grow
into trees and be fruitful again
only if you love
will this arid land regain
its softness and fertility
only if you love
will this frown turn into a smile
into laughter into a reverie
only if you love
will this house become a home
this hut magically transformed into a mansion
only if you love
will these birds sing these clouds drift
these rivers run these world rotating
only if you love
will this heart beat again
these eyes blink and wink
these hands open these feet dance
but you never loved
but if and only if you love
all these would have happened.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Only If You Love Me
only if you love me
will this stone turn to bread
this water to wine
only if you love me
will seeds sprout and grow
into trees and be fruitful again
only if you love me
will this arid land regain
its softness and fertility
only if you love me
will this frown turn into a smile
into laughter into a reverie
only if you love me
will this house become a home
this hut magically transformed into a mansion
only if you love me
will these birds sing these clouds drift
these rivers run these world rotating
only if you love me
will this heart beat again
these eyes blink and wink
these hands open these feet dance
but you never loved me
and i never ever told you
only if i had the courage to tell you
all these could have happened.... who knows?
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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The Dance Of Life (4)
square pegs
trying to take the steps of the
circle
holes everywhere
lapses
dark spots
explosions
and weeping on one side
at the other side of this world
is the big party
people laughing and dancing
and children
chasing each other
that storm and time
and still ponds and sitting lotuses
a baby on the crib
and a young couple making love in bed
a window opens
to a beautiful sunset
sadness and truth and lies sprouting like
grasses in an open field
seeds turning into trees
and rain stopping one evening
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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The Old Man....
there is this garden that you tend
you put the seeds and they all sprout in time
time waters it
the changes take place
soon the flowers bloom and
you watch all these
with patience
there is this light feeling that comes
like butterfly wings
white against the dusk
there is nothing new in that garden
you are sick and takes the rest
you sit by the window
the same window all these 50 years
time is you boring attendant
independent from your grasp
it can exist without you
you sit and watch the world passing by
like a flower slowly unfolding
and you never notice it
you go out
you have recovered from a disease
you
take a walk
visit some friends
come back in the afternoon
you watch the view from the window
again
this you do perhaps for another 50 years
of your life
setting aside fears of not having to
step upon 60
life is short for those who have no one to love
it is the same field same mountain
bald and brown
same clouds
pale blue and drifting
same fog
fading like a magical show
same window
that you close again
because it is dark
and cold inside
your old wooden bed
that you have
inherited from your
forefathers
as usual
you take your sleep
time passes you by
the room is so silent
as though
it is the home for
the dead
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Nice Day Today
the sun just comes
and sits upon the hill
starting its usual climb
uphill until it gets
at the center of my
cluttered world
the birds chirp and
the grasses are green as
ever and the the trees
on their thicker leaves
spread their branches
on the blue, blue skies
it is a nice day today
and i am feeling dizzy.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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It Is Another Day
today shall be another day
do not think that it is the same sunshine
touching you
it will be another one
more warm
and will be even more comforting
you wake up so early when the windows
of your house are still closed
when the lights on the streets are still on
when the silence of the world still reigns
but soon enough you will hear the steps
of running men who rush to meet the day
with excitement with anticipation
for new thoughts for new adventures
do not just sit there and write
move your legs and run a mile or two
sweat it out and meet this world anew
till the new sun comes with the clouds
colors changing hues as birds start
flying in the air as trees grow to heights
as new leaves sprout as flowers along
the way start to bloom as if telling you
what a beautiful world we still have today!
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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The Castle of Mains
Ancient Castle of the Mains,
With your romantic scenery and surrounding plains,
Which seem most beautiful to the eye,
And the little rivulet running by,
Which the weary traveller can drink of when he feels dry.
And the heaven's breath smells sweetly there,
And scented perfumes fill the air,
Emanating from the green trees and beautiful wild flowers growing there.
There the people can enjoy themselves
And wile away the time,
By admiring the romantic scenery In the beautiful sunshine;
And pull the little daisy,
As they carelessly recline
Upon the grassy green banks,
Which is most charming to see,
Near by the Castle of the Mains,
Not far from Dundee.
Then there's the old burying-ground,
Most solemn to see,
And the silent dead reposing silently
Amid the shady trees,
In that beautiful fairy dell
Most lovely to see,
Which in the summer season
Fills the people's hearts with glee,
To hear the birds singing and the humming of the bee.
poem by William Topaz McGonagall
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84
my silence shall be
i find this in the forest of trees
long trees, shady, such that what you can see
are only shadows of leaves
and what you hear is only the sound of the wind
choked between tight walls,
this is my silence,
moist, and soft, between a growth of wild
ferns
rotten leaves heaps and heaps of
rotten leaves
layer after layer of rotten leaves
thick and pushed still to the roots
smashed to the ground
some seeds from the oaks
or maybe from the flowers of the orchids
or some sweet fruits and red berries fall
in there
and they begin to grow
rich as humus is this soil down
the darkness of this forest,
this is my silence
deep inside me
moist, rotten, but soon
lots shall grow
seeds turning into sprouts
to trees again
perhaps taller than ever
some fruits so sweet and colored and shiny
some flowers scented and so lovely,
this my silence
shall be, i am keeping it for years
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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My Silence Shall Be
i find this in the forest of trees
long trees, shady, such that what you can see
are only shadows of leaves
and what you hear is only the sound of the wind
choked between tight walls,
this is my silence,
moist, and soft, between a growth of wild
ferns
rotten leaves heaps and heaps of
rotten leaves
layer after layer of rotten leaves
thick and pushed still to the roots
smashed to the ground
some seeds from the oaks
or maybe from the flowers of the orchids
or some sweet fruits and red berries fall
in there
and they begin to grow
rich as humus is this soil down
the darkness of this forest,
this is my silence
deep inside me
moist, rotten, but soon
lots shall grow
seeds turning into sprouts
to trees again
perhaps taller than ever
some fruits so sweet and colored and shiny
some flowers scented and so lovely,
this my silence
shall be, i am keeping it for years
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Welcome...
one must always
decide to be
happy
i always tell myself that
others have no time
deciding for us
that way
i always do it
giving justice to my
existence
if sadness comes
it is not mine
if it stays
because it loves me
so? i am always a lovable person
loving to a certain extent
what i do not have and cannot own
sadness
is an alien
i have all these
curiosity to know it well sometimes
& so
it stays with me
comforted by my decision
that i welcome
everyone
everything that comes inside
my house
my heart
life is a house where i live
welcome guests, welcome!
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Daydreaming
Soft life grows in the stillness
Step and heart hurries through the green
Loving stays at hedges,
That heavily fill up with scents.
Beech ponders; the moist bells
Fell silent, the fellow sings
Fire embraces darkness
O patience and mute rejoicing.
Beautifully animated, silent night
Still gives glad courage to the end.
Golden wine, offered by
A sister's blue hands.
poem by Georg Trakl
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Hope Is An Open Window
(christopher ward/tim tickner/diana ross)
Are we not more than hunger and music
Are we not more than harlequins and horns
Are we not more than color and drums
Are we not more than anger and dance
Give me courage so I can spread it over my face and mouth
Give me courage, give me courage
Give me courage, give me courage
I walk these city streets see the people there
Look into the eyes of quiet despair
And the faces tell a story that words never can
And it falls to everyone of us to try and understand
Out of kindness
One act of grace makes the world we walk a better place
Hope is an open window
Love an open door
To reach out for each other
Is what we came here for
Through an open window
We can see the way
If we hold on to each other, every day
We build walls of suspicion with bars of fears
Tell ourselves well be safe in here
I know more brings us together
Than keeps up apart
First we got to tear down these walls within our hearts
We might be strangers, we can be friends
You and I we both need to let somebody in
Hope is an open window
Love an open door
To reach out for each other
Is what we came here for
Through an open window
We can see the way
If we hold on to each other, every day
Give me courage so I can spread over my face and mouth
We are secret rivers with shaking hips and crests
Come awake in our thunder so that our eyes can see behind trees
Give me courage so I can spread over my face and mouth
Give me courage, give me courage
Give me courage, give me courage
Hope is an open window
Loves an open door
To reach out for each other
Is what we came here for
Through an open window
We can see the way
If we hold on to each other, every day
Hope is an open window
Love an open door
Gotta be there for each other
Is what we sent here for
Through an open window
We can find a way
To love one another
Hope is an open window
Love an open door
song performed by by Diana Ross
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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In The Rainy
In the rainy, in my village
It`s good to see
Green grasses around,
Corn fields looking green
With rice plants growing
Vegetable plants are with flowers and fruits,
In morning and evening
Dew on grass, on leaves
Looks like....
Clouds sail,
Cover the blue sky
But when it rains
Changes everything,
Thatch roofs as waterfalls
Let the water fall down
Making some sound.
Dragon-flies move here and there,
Sit on a grass
And challenge one to capture
But when a hand moves
It flies far and again
Sits there to joke.
poem by Satyabrata Barik
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Spring: New Beginnings
I have always loved the heralding of spring,
When the spell of youth is cast upon everything.
Gardens everywhere awaken from their sleep,
As the sun, from behind the clouds, does peep.
Leafy green shoots begin to sprout.
Flowers begin to pop their heads out.
Yellow daffodils stand proud and tall,
But, sadly, are gone in no time at all.
The sweet smell of blossom on the trees,
Wafts down from above on the gentle breeze.
Buttercups and daises are abundant everywhere
And the buzz of flying insects fills the warm air.
The season heralds a bright new dawn.
Baby birds and animals are being born.
The days are beginning to get progressively longer
And the sun's rays are beginning to shine stronger.
There's a sense of hope at this time of year,
Bringing with it, some much needed cheer.
It's heartening to know that summer is around the corner,
When the weather will grow increasingly warmer.
poem by Angela Wybrow
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When You Grieve
when you grieve upon the death of your beloved
you only grieve upon yourself
if you only try to look around you
they do not believe in the sorrow of your grieving
the birds still play with their wings and sing
their fledgelings take a bath in the fountains
and preoccupies themselves with the art of flying
the flowers still bloom and leaves greener as ever
the seeds sprout the twigs grow another inch
the trees still look for the rays of the sun
the sea remain faithful to the accommodation of the waves
the winds still blow the sails of ships that arrive and leave the port
the seagulls keep their gaze on the school of fish
the fishermen keep watch for the spot to throw their nets
the children on the beach play
as their mothers watch with glee
do not be overwhelmed with what you feel
soon the sad feelings on fleets
shall flee as flitting as they must be
take your time watch the world in locomotion
prepare your heart, i know, i wait, for your emotion.
for soon, it must beat for me, to you i pray.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Abstraction Fo The Word Chirp....
i hear birds chirping
early morning
on those trees
clouds arrive, light
spreads,
green becomes too green
in the fields of
life,
i hear birds chirping
sweet to my ear
i give it priority
abstract. delet morning
move out clouds from the picture
double click green fields
focus on life
delet birds
add volume to chirping
it is all chirping now
just chirping
chirping chirping
the essence of chirp.
i have abstracted it from
everything else.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Fundamental of Liar Chapter LXXXVI: Cover
We cover bitterness with satyr
We cover sadness with smile
We cover happiness with tears
We cover pride with stubbornness
We cover anger with jokes
We cover grudge with loyalty
We cover love with play
We cover lust with generosity
We cover sorrow with toughness
We cover ambition with hard work
We cover hope with pessimism
We cover fear with deniable
We cover dream with horror
We cover shame with sarcasm
We cover lone with rebellion
We cover clueless with boasting
We cover ignorance with invisibility
We cover truth with shadow
We cover trouble with distraction
We cover envy with humiliation
We cover lie with innocence
poem by Maria Sudibyo
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At The Window
My choking breath, silent run between the window
Frames of wild chestnuts' trees.
Murmurs of warm sheets cast away my body.
Balcony, sprout seeds of transparent fluid.
Mute you show me the world, so that I can make the tree sing.
And the birds' blow by the wind.
It exalted my desire, which cannot be neither confined nor not die.
Like shining night, reflected on cats' eyes.
Every time the moon shine.
Voices of flame, blow by the wind
Against the window spiffier, last fire soon death adores.
Of my breath, last sigh.
I shall disappear from the reflection of a sterile glass.
Contemplate with my sight the blue sky, and let it die.
poem by Luca Menin
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Love You Always Expect Love That Is Sweet And Enduring
we were once in love
i will not deny that
we make love almost every moment we look at each other
in the beach
in the camarin
in the house of your mother in the house of your friend
we like making love and we were content with what love is
for the time being
in the flesh,
we mature like some ripe fruits and we have no other option
like the fruit we fall
to the grounds of questioning ourselves
will this love be real even without the flesh
of the fruit?
will this love be true even without the leaves
of the trees?
will this love endure even when the tree is cut
because it will bear no fruit any longer?
i promise you love and i put the word there
forever,
but i never told you that there will be no pain
we compensate
we shall also be both broken......the sweetness shall not last longer,
but it is not the end yet, the sweetness shall linger in the memories
of our youth
when we wilt we shall be ready with our new seeds,
the rain shall make
the seeds grow again
time showers it with longings
and we shall now watch the flowers and the fruits
from a certain distance...
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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