When You Say Goodbye
as you say it
so shall it be done
the word shall speak
for itself
res ipsa loquitor
you shall embrace
a new self again
like a creature's way
of shedding its skin
like the seasons
like the way everything blooms anew
like the flowers
like the wilting of the petals
and the rotting of the leaves
the fungal deterioration of the roots
like life
like us
we shall venture anew to another world
finding a new path
where we shall not be hurt
we shall have learned how to cut
and cut clearly
no regret
you bet.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Related quotes
Come on babies
come in babies let's get is all anew
the witches down burned
they never really learned
they never really knew
how to get it all anew
come on babies let's go on all anew
let's turn the leaves on the brighter side
let the page that grieves be torn to hide
old pain not to pierce again
old hearts not to be beat in vain
come on babies forget your fears
turn old years to a happy new year
poem by Miroslava Odalovic
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Sonnet: Give Me A Heart Anew, O God
Give me a heart anew, O God, I pray;
The one I have is sinful and impure;
Forgive my sins once more, Lord show my way;
Just say one word, Thy grace will heal me sure.
Give me a heart anew, let me begin,
To walk the road, the way you want me to;
Let me never commit a mortal sin;
Give in to temptations, the devils woo.
Give a heart anew, O God, once more;
I promise to keep it sin free lifetime;
Opened, you have for me another door;
Let me not fail to make my life sublime.
Give me a heart anew, O God, again;
And give thy grace to keep it off sin's stain.
poem by John Celes
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A Lonely Reminder...
because i am a seed
i sprout
i make the bud
and then
i flower facing the
sun
i grow and
i reach the apex
of time and i
know what follows
next is
the wilting of
my flowers
the rotting of
my roots
until i am gone
i know
i shall be back again
into nothing
the seed in me comes
again
i know
i know.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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I have pursued you
For long years
Finding and losing you anew
Through joy and tears.
Sometimes like a fragrance
That’s lost in a moment
Or a face at a distance
Vague and crescent.
Though constant companion
You never stay on
Before I know you, you are gone
Leaving me alone.
Still for years I walk miles
Chasing the shadow of your smiles
Finding and losing you
Only to seek you anew.
poem by Pradip Chattopadhyay
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They That Destroy
They that know how to destroy
surprisingly, i must confess, as
i have seen,
are those that do not really
want to create
are those that do not know
how to begin anew
those that do not know the first
cry for life
they that roam the world without
purpose
they cut and when you ask them
to connect
they run and away like mad dogs
on the loose
carrying sharp knives
cutting branches again of trees
not understanding what roots
are
what leaves.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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The flowers anew, returning seasons bring; but beauty faded has no second spring.
quote by Ambrose Philips
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Ar 1
the agreement is that
when he likes you he shall
stand and clap and
bow at you
res ipsa loquitor
he lies there motionless
his face in the ceiling
his hands clasped then hidden
inside his pockets
and being so tired for the
day's endless struggle
he slept
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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To Live And Love Some More
we open our eyes
must always
open our eyes for
new surprises
we do not close it
for the twists
and turns of life
everyday is a disclosure
every hour
an unfolding of buds into
flowers
spreading scents
pleasing us with its petals
and bright colors
handing us more of
those memories
nothing is discarded
everything is embraced
and kept
and treasured
but like the petals
subject to time
and the seasons
we arrive at the alleys
of wilting
and drying and
crumpling
we too open our eyes
for all these
familiarizing ourselves
with the cycles
of endings and beginnings
the shalls and musts
perhapses and maybes
and all the other
potentials and
possibilities
ah, life is exciting
who does not like to live and love some more?
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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There Is A Rose...
There Is A Rose...
There is a rose that blooms for me
Tucked away so quietly
Hidden for only my eye to see
And holding on to my heart's key
There is a rose that blooms for me
There is a rose that blooms for you
Just beyond your loving view
Waiting to be born anew
Waking to your heart's cue
There is a rose that blooms for you
13 Jan 2008
Butterfly Dreams
I dream what it would be like to be a Butterfly
See the wonder of their world through a thoughtful eye
Taste the fragrant flowers drink the morning dew
Play around the petals and pollinate a few
I want to witness the magic of Mother Nature’s womb
Be there at the beginning of a futures flower’s bloom
Try to pry the difference between a petal and thorn
Aiding in the arrival of seeds being born
Imagine the vista and the intimate views
The collage of colors and their heavenly hues
What would it be like to wake as something new
Awake from a silken sleep starting life anew
Some dream they’re men that ply special powers
I dream I'm a Butterfly a Fae among the flowers
poem by Ed_ Schmidt
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Looking For Direction
What does God have to say, have you looked in His Word today?
Where He speaks to men like us, when in Him we place our trust.
However, God will speak to anyone, if you’d like to know His Son,
To know Christ in a personal way, so God can speak to you today.
If you are looking for direction, God’s Word is your best selection,
God’s guide for your daily life, in a world filled with pain and strife.
His Word is more than just advice, as it points all men to New Life.
God left us with His Holy Word, to read anew Truth’s we’ve heard.
God does not leave us all alone, and calls on men to be His own,
He sent The Spirit upon the earth, to give to them a spiritual birth.
The Spirit helps common man, to read The Word and understand,
That The God of all eternity, came to earth to die, for you and me.
God’s Holy Spirit opens eyes, as God changes hearts and minds,
Then He leads men to the place, where they read of God’s Grace.
God’s Word helps us comprehend, what God has done for all men,
That His Son came to earth to die, to provide New Life to you and I.
To some it may be just a book, however it deserves a second look,
The Bible is God’s revelation; God’s Truth revealed to every nation.
Without it many nations perish, without The Word which we cherish.
It is a message from our Creator, to lead us to our Lord and Savior.
(Copyright ©10/2006)
My Mind Was Full Of Ideas This Morning
my mind is full of ideas this morning
while i am walking alone
on the grassy path of this mountainside
i am so tired. I take my rest sitting on a log
rotting under a tree.
i gaze on the ricefields just below this hill.
some white herons as usual fly low
some sparrows regroup themselves and
scatter in an instant like a confetti of dry leaves.
the sun comes out in glory
proclaiming though its reign on this corner
the gumamela flowers on the side of the hills bow down
and bloom again
i am amazed on the beginning of this beautiful day.
The butterflies flutter on the bushes of white petals
of these wild flowers. I see a nest with three small white eggs.
the sound of waters cascading on the creek.
some leaves are carried away. A fish jumps trying to catch
a low flying dragonfly. Some dew begins to lose their
glow on the bamboo leaves.The law of evaporation gets in.
Lost. I am so empty.The window of my heart is open.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Why Do You Think That This World Is Not Interesting?
everything has a reason, that is the tenet, nothing happens by random
that is a restatement, perhaps an accent, and emphatic stress for those who still doubt.
every reason explains itself, whether you know it or not, they have mouths and minds.
though they do not speak to you, or think of you, they think, they speak. A premise.
the fire tree blooms today, and there is fire all around the wildlife part. Warmth is intentional.
Fire for summer. Warmth on a hot day. There is a reason. The petals speak for themselves.
an old pedicab under the mahogany trees, the driver pedals its way on a dusty path.
a child wearing an orange shirt sits restlessly wanting to jump screaming. Noise in stillness.
the trees are shedding off yellow leaves and the ground accepts a good cover. There is no sound.
the grasses are starting to wilt and the moss on the pebbles are dark brown. Time to die.
the joggers are here feeding an activity to this oval the silence of which is finally broken.
Summer. This is rest for most. The holy week and time to reflect. Meanwhile the sun shines
on top of the world, the clouds are cottony and so white. The wind blows on my face.
There is a reason for everything. That is tenet and i know nothing happens by random.
I scribble some notes on my mind. Stating what is not spoken by the sun, the trees, the mountains, the joggers, the dusty path, the child in orange shirt. The pedals squeak and
I am watching and listening. There are too many reasons wanting to be written. Anger, and
pain and bliss and company and solitude. Why do you think that this world is not interesting?
Are you not amazed with what we still do not know? Did i not tell you the color
of the daffodils? Or that the man pedaling its way under the mahogany trees
is an old man feeling so useless and that the child in orange is his grandson?
Life need not be what we think we do not have.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Other Side Of Life
(Justin Hayward)
The Atmosphere
On the streets tonight
Is the driving beat
Of the world
The word down here
On the streets tonight
Is the truest music
You've heard
So take your share
Of the gifts that are there
They all belong to you
And come what may
At the break of each day
We all begin anew once more
We all begin anew
Baby, baby, baby, let's investigate
The other side of life tonight
The lovers and the fighters
And the risks they take
Are on the other side of life tonight
Let's lose our way
Go completely astray
And find ourselves again
You know he only way to get there
Is to take that step
To the other side of life tonight
The Atmosphere
On the streets tonight
Is the driving beat
Of the world
The word down here
On the streets tonight
Is the truest music
You've heard
So take your share
Of the gifts that are there
They all belong to you
And come what may
At the break of each day
We all begin anew once more
We all begin anew
Baby, baby, baby, lets investigate
The other side of life tonight
The lovers and the fighters
And the risks they take
Are on the other side of life tonight
Let's lose our way
Go completely astray
And find ourselves again
You know the only way to get there
Is to take that step
To the other side of life tonight
song performed by by Moody Blues
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Welcome Stranger To Another World
it is almost dark when i arrive
at this place,
beside the cemented road
a garden of wilting flowers
petals are filled with dust
the trees along the way
towards a bungalow
are shedding off leaves,
sonorous, the place is getting
strange to me with its own
kind of quiet
the door of the house is half open
the swing on the side is not moving
the air is strong
and leaves begin to be flown away
i enter the door
dusting my shoes on the carpet
scarlet in hues
light is filtered by dark green curtains
i remain standing
and you are there waiting
for this final talk
it is strange for i feel
that i do not belong to this place
anymore
i am taking away all my stories
and a book of poems
there is only one thing
i like to say to you
we make an agreement
there will be no more elaborations
no justifications for our past actions
nothing hurting or unkind
we are tired of the pain
i am leaving.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Survival Kit
the grass accepts death
of all it has, leaves and roots
its color blends with
the dust and parched mud
cracking surfaces
it also knows to preserve
its species
burying resilient seeds on
the cracks
and when it rains it begins
to grow buds
roots and all and the whole
ground is green again
meanwhile on cracked grounds
where once the pond was
the whiskers of the catfish begin
to wriggle
shedding off mud around its skin
the fish begins to swim
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Longİ Ng Through The Seasons
ARE WE CHANGİ NG...or the seasons...the last leaves of the trees...tend no to fall from the trees...the last flowers of fall tend not to bloom again.....are we changing or the seasons...are we changing or the seasons...happy tiny fingers caress the whiteness of the falling snow near the window pane...at the other side...bare feet are shivering in the snow...as though match seller girl of andersen has revived again..some people are begging in the wilderness for piece of bread..are we cahanging or the seasons..an old woman her hair bleached by snow opening her hand..for a stand...are we chaNGİ NG OR THE SEASONS....the last flowers of the seasons of the seasons tend not to bloom again...I envy the struggle between the seasons for being and overwhelming....and when every season changes...I long for a new fresh life and world towards goodnes...beauty...peace and brother hood.............
poem by Metin Sahin
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Seed, Qou Vadis?
seed falling on the ground
brought by a night bird
wet by the rain of dusk
you have no choice
but to crack your hard covering
and then grow
some roots and leaves
in time's blessing
some flowers
then fruits
then the silence of the wilting
follows
to be back into a seed again
eaten by this night bird
and thrown back
to a distant soil
seed,
you must begin
your cycle again
for what choice do you have?
the night bird does not
even know
and the soil simply receives you
and the rain of the dusk
simply wets you
and they do not even know
what & why
they are doing all these
this is the cycle
of the seed of life
and wilting and death
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Now The Mysteries Unfold
the budding is over
the petals start to unfold
and you are there
to see what these
flowers have been
hiding all through
the years of your patient
presence
petals as black as the
hair of a mad woman
scent as foul as dead
rotting fish on the shore
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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As You Feel The Pain At The Side Of Your Abdomen
i see what you are seeing, you are always telling me.
your fingers feel the pain. your eyes speak.
you take a little time. taking a look at the side of things.
you see some worms. a dead dog. a rat rotting on the road.
the rain has come for days. flood runs.
the sun comes. everything dries up.
the flowers wilt. this time you rise from your bed
to be alive for once.
you see ghosts. i see them too.
white ghosts floating on the window railings.
i call them clouds. outbursts of light.
the moon. and that stars.
denial. the images of denial come like some petals
of rain. red petals. orange leaves.
they come to you like naked children.
they grow to be men, naked men, these truths, they are like
the ten sculptures of david.
denial. you are talking of something else.
it is not pain. it is happiness. you like more of it.
yet the irony is, you are about to leave. the black car is waiting.
and they are ready with their dresses and flowers and prayers.
just as life has become beautiful
the end of the story comes. happy ending.
that is what you want. happy.
ending. sometimes, i feel so disgusted, why the young
useful and well-loved people always have to leave
there was no time enough to really meet them.
i am crying.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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