When You Finally Find Your Peace Of Mind...
always remember
it is when you have nothing to write
that you have finally
find peace,
a tranquil river
does not have any fish
to cause a ripple
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Related quotes
for Lina S.
SO my dear where have you been?
you don't remember the ripple of the river
it does not remember any
you or me, we are even on this matter
so you are searching for the games that children play
while their fathers are fighting the war
while their mothers wait for the bad news
there are so many
but i will not tell you their names for now
in fact i think you all know these
but you just don't want to remember
i can remember
but let me tell you about those games later
meanwhile let me write
about those who are dead and those who play dead
those who are through and those who are just beginning
it does not matter
there is nothing to be serious about
let all these go
like what i once told you
like the ripples of the river
scarlet from the top and deep red at the bottom
you know the smell
now you must remember
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Where The River Flows
Music : rudolf schenker
Lyrics: klaus meine
Under suburban skies
Where life is bleeding
Where concrete skies are grey
Theres plenty of room for dreaming
I still keep coming here
Follow those traces
I travel back in time
Remember all those places
Feels like I never left
The houses still standing
Down by the river where
The dreams are never ending
You find me
You find me
You find me by the river
You find me
You find me
You find me where the river flows
Under the silent moon
This industrial city
Is heartland even though
Lifes been not that pretty
I still keep coming here
To that old river
To find my roots just where
The future lives forever
You find me
You find me
You find me by the river
You find me
You find me
You find me, you can find me
By the river where dreams will never die
By the river under suburban skies
You find me
You find me
You find me by the river
You find me
You find me
You find me where the river flows
By the river where dreams have never died
By the river I look through childrens eyes
You find me
You find me
You find me by the river
You find me
You find me
You find me where the river flows
You find me
You find me
You find me by the river
You find me
You find me
You find me where the river flows
Where the river flows
Where the river flows
Where the river flows
song performed by by Scorpions
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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This Is What He Said...
here i am
stuck bathing on the same river
wading on the same
early morning water
thinking, thinking
exerting force without
moving
there is no distance
covered
on such a work that
is worthless
got the energy but there is
no place for me
here, here is an earth
without a tree
here, here is a river
without a ripple
there is a fish over there
the only fish i see
i see, i see, it is floating
it is bloating, it is dead.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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When I remember the fish
When I remember the fish,
The river longed me to go,
Wriggling and meandering, slippery in this
Imaginary waters of my world,
I become a fish.
When eye sea them eat the fish;
They cast their nets for a random catch, they
Drop their hooks for a strangling pull, then,
I become a fish no more.
When them fail to catch the fish;
As the fish wriggles an escape,
Then eye long to be like one as eye
Wonder whether or not am a fish.
©1998
poem by Akachukwu Chukwuemeka
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It Cannot Hold A Fish
a calm river
does not like even
a little ripple
a fish is not
welcome there
still water
what can a leaf really do there?
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Watching the hours pass by
Johnny sits waiting all day
For fish to arrive
He wonders whether they have died
For hours and hours he waits for the fish to take it’s bait
A ripple in the lake
Sends his fishing rod a warning
The worm has been spiced up for the fish
Its fragrance was aroused in the lake
The fish tasted the hot spices in the cool lake
“Steady old girl” says Johnny with a smile
“ Soon you will be mine”
Ripples overlap
The fish rod numbs with pain
The fish battles with the rod
Johnny pulls harder
He will not let go
Its weight surpasses that of a stone
The fish hooks himself loose
The ripple disappears
Johnny sits waiting at the end of the lake
Waiting for another to taste his spicy bait
poem by Lee John Siebritz
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31
A fish that drinks like a fish, that is a fish in excess
A fish that fishes in troubled waters, that is a fish taking advantage of another fish in trouble
A fish that fishes or cuts bait, well, to be or not to be, to retreat or to attack, that is the fishy question
A fish that is neither fish nor fowl, is a fish that is neither one nor the other, lacking some convictions
A fish out of water, is a fish feeling left out, no longer in his accustomed environment
Do you have other fish to fry for now?
Is there other matter requiring my attention?
Poor fish,
the lake is finally fished out from his fishy mind.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Some things that can happen with a fish
A fish that drinks like a fish, that is a fish in excess
A fish that fishes in troubled waters, that is a fish taking advantage of another fish in trouble
A fish that fishes or cuts bait, well, to be or not to be, to retreat or to attack, that is the fishy question
A fish that is neither fish nor fowl, is a fish that is neither one nor the other, lacking some convictions
A fish out of water, is a fish feeling left out, no longer in his accustomed environment
Do you have other fish to fry for now?
Is there other matter requiring my attention?
Poor fish,
the lake is finally fished out from his fishy mind.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Help...
He is walking by a river
Feeling worse and worse by the minute
One second he is looking at the river
The next he is in it
The icy cold water pulling him down
His screams starting to make no sound.
He keeps fighting, kicking, howling
It was no use
The river was going to send him down
It would laugh in his ear
Knowing his struggle was useless
Though the boy was clueless.
It was decided that
That was all he could take
Letting his mind go numb
For his nerovs's sake
He is submerged in the water
Hearing a final laugh of victory
Just a bunch of mockery
From the stuipd river
nothing could be less civil
Down underwater
he could see many fish
And they looked kind of bothered
'Do not let the river win! '
a fish cried to him
'But I cannot swim no more
and you are just one fish' he sighed
The fish smiled 'Yes, but help can grow'
All the fish gathered around
And now the river no longer pulling him down
He gasped for air
Now he could see
That the poeple who really care
are the ones who can really help me.
God is here....
last night i had a very sound sleep
it felt like a still pond without a fish
but only moss and stone and light
like there was a full moon
drifting among the tree tops
no ripple of the air from the winds of the sea
and i remember what i dream
no bridges and flood below this time
it was like a Chinese painting of a river and mountains behind
it was so peaceful
that i can hear the sound of the leaf falling from its branch
and i told myself
this is home,
this is heaven
and what i have been dreaming has become all too true
i now, believe,
God is here.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Pisces Fish
Rowers gliding on the river
Canadian geese crap along the bank
Back wheel of my bike begins to quiver
The chain is wrapped around the crank
Old ladies, who must be doggie training
Walking, throwing balls, chasing all the sheep
While the farmer stands around, and hes complaining
His mad cows are being put to sleep
Im a Pisces fish and the river runs through my soul
Smoke signals from the brewery
Like someone in there found the latest Pope
In a vat of beer that keeps pumping out with fury
While the church bell ringers trangled in his rope
But theres a temple on an island
I think of all the Gods and what they feel
You can only find them in the deepest silence
Ive got to get off of this big wheel
Im a Pisces fish and the river runs through my soul
Im a Pisces fish and the river runs through my soul
And Ill be swimming until I can find those waters
Thats the one unbounded ocean of bliss
Thats flowing through your parents, sons and daughters
But still an easy thing for us to miss
Blades go skimming through the water
I hear the coxon shouting his instructions about
With this crew oh, it could be a tall order
Have we time to sort all these things out ?
Sometimes my life it feels like fiction
Some of the days its really quite serene
Im a living proof of all lifes contradictions
One halfs going where the other halfs just been
And Im a Pisces fish and the river runs through my soul
Im a Pisces fish and the river runs through my soul
Im a Pisces fish and the river runs through my soul
song performed by by George Harrison
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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To Canada With Love
two opposite time zones
we know it but not so different geographically
we must so suppose
you have forgotten to write a poem
for me
but i still write one poem for you
to remember
that someone from one of the islands
in the Far East
still cares for you and worries much
when you start to have
insomnia
i will never be cold as a snow there
there is not such coldness
here in my heart
i will be always as warm as the sun that
you first saw here
soft as the foams of the sea
where you first learned how to swim
gentle as the marshes
floating on the river where we tried
to catch fish on a summer day
it is a promise. Good Night.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Brave Fish
Torrent tides
Ripping the ride
And the ripple winnowing
Encumbers the quartz
Of time and the fray's
Unmarred, vestal,
Succulent vim.
How do you lose
Yourself?
How do you lose
Life?
Being taken by the current
Like a dead fish
Within the puncturing rift
Of skeletons and daemons
How could you lose it
Without a gamble?
The quintessence of self,
Like a sole gyratory leaf
Needs not a place
For it isn't found;
Liberal, in the pliant
Dictates of inadequacies
And it can swim in the atmosphere,
It can defy gravity
Equipped with buoyancy
In its profound hollowness,
It can drift astray
Out of place
But not lose itself
Unless crashed by
The charred
Infernal flames.
In my anteroom, meander
And find the vexed perplexities
Of unfurling the riddles
Of your turbulent aching
To find yourself.
You have found a place
In the ferrying parade
Of the river, to the sea, to the ocean,
Ballasting salts and chemicals
Metamorphosing the regal
Cloys of tentacles
Injects of treacle.
You are who you are
In the river, the sea, the ocean,
Change is inevitable
But a brave fish
Cannot be taken away
By the foul eddies.
poem by Norman Santos
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Life Is Like A Flower, A River, A Ripple Of The Sky
life is like a flower
tell me, like is like a river, tell me,
life is like a ripple of clouds in the sky, tell me
i tell you, the flower blooms and wilts, the river flows and dries, the ripple
of the clouds in the sky drifts, and travels and sees a lot
and then fall into rain
and seeps to the ground and nowhere to be found
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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A Ripple Song
Once red ripple came to land
In the golden sunset burning--
Lapped against a maiden's hand,
By the ford returning.
Dainty foot and gentle breast--
Here, across, be glad and rest.
"Maiden, wait," the ripple saith;
"Wait awhile, for I am Death!"
"Where my lover calls I go--
Shame it were to treat him coldly--
'Twas a fish that circled so,
Turning over boldly."
Dainty foot and tender heart,
Wait the loaded ferry-raft.
"Wait, ah, wait!" the ripple saith;
"Maiden, wait, for I am Death!"
"When my lover calls I haste--
Dame Disdain was never wedded!"
Ripple-ripple round her waist,
Clear the current eddied.
Foolish heart and faithful hand,
Little feet that touched no land.
Far away the ripple sped,
Ripple-ripple running red!
poem by Rudyard Kipling
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Dry River
River of Doom
Sad sight dry river, and twenty years ago it was
three metre deep and had trout. We caught some
with nets and, fried them on a small fire and felt
like cavemen. Delicious fish meat we ate with our
fingers. Every year I have seen the river getting
smaller even in the winter when it rains irregularly,
it is no more than a beck. There is no fish not even
the skeleton of children caught by a wall of water,
when it had been raining upland and into the river.
Their father was arrested it was said he had killed
the children, fed them to the pigs, but for a single
button in the sty they sat him free. Terrible rumors
every summer I see him walking along the dry river,
muttering to himself trying to find his children
poem by Oskar Hansen
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Beneath The Lush Of The Nipa Palms (2)
beneath the lush of the nipa palms
are the homes of crabs beside is
the river the niche for the schools of
fish and on the river banks are
glossy pebbles some silent greens
of moss and ferns,
amidst all these beauteous secrets
perhaps we shall remember
how sweetly once we spent the
passionate night together...
please, please, take time to remember.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Ode To The Peshtigo
It starts as just a trickle, a spring which comes up from the ground, fed by many tributaries, to become one of the biggest rivers around.
Always there, constant flow.
Before it had its name, Native Americans used it as a highway, for even today people still travel it the same way.
This river has seen many a traveler, explorers, settlers, trappers, loggers, fishermen, hunters and boaters.
Spring, summer, fall and in winter, even though covered with a blanket of ice and snow, the river steadfast in its flow.
Stretches of water, blissful and serene.
Its rapids, waterfalls, noisy when one is near, yet tranquil to the ear.
This river is home to many animals, fish and birds.
For whoever visits this river, many places seem yet undisturbed, but one thing is certain, the river will always be there, constant flow, the mighty Peshtigo.
poem by Alvin Schaut
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Make Everything Brief And Concise
and so they tell you,
be brief and concise,
you try to follow
you flow on some
self-imposed restraints,
a brief river on a
concise ripple,
you opted instead
for silence and with
full respect for the
instructions of the law
even the fish there
tiptoed on a
tutu.
what a mockery!
the snakes hissed.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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A Flowing River
Like a flowing river
our life is constantly changing
hitting rough waters
and stony shores.
Then lying in peace
within tranquil pools
and some days we are
tossed hither and tither
then gain our momentum to carry on
just like a flowing river
poem by David Harris
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