When You're Alone
it is like a tiny flower
with lavender petals
under the full orange moon
blooming on the desert sands
no shadows of camels
no date palms
no wind blowing from the north
just a star and yet very far away.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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In The Desert
in the desert
one night
under a full orange moon
among the sands
and vipers
a tiny flower
still blooms
so beautifully
violet.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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In These Restless Hours....
in these restless hours
one wakes up to share what
innately is also
restless...
thoughts are wanderers
in a caravan of camels
under the full moon amidst
the coldness of dawns...
the desert howls like a fox
asking for names
i whisper my name to the wind
so all the sands of time may know
that i have allowed
to be counted in
in these restless hours
we are too, part of the pack of
those restless creatures
see our shadows under the fullness of the
moon treading the desert sands of time
the foxes, the bats, the snakes,
the cockroaches, the gnats
and the nits and lice.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Perseverance
little flower with
deep blue petals
blooming
on white desert
sands
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Dryness
there are deserts
of relationship.
i've been there
and i will find myself
back in there
at least, with this experience
i had with camels and oasis
and mirage
now, i shall know how to manage
the sands
slipping from my fingers
the date palms and the
full moon
and the sandstorms
and then
the same thing happens
you ultimately find the sea
and the port
and hands waving
welcoming you back home.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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The New Story In Town...
they thought
all of them that no man can ever step on the moon
this is outrageous!
impossible!
they all think
love never blooms in the world of soldier ants
those that are
hungry for themselves
that night there lived a writer
somewhere in those misty hills
i do not know
whether he is talking about himself
or someone else
but it is a fact now
the characters are true
and still alive
they who raised violets in the desert
one moonless night
they put a star
their last hope
that morning
a tiny flower blooms
so tiny
that it escapes the attention of camels
and their riders
from where waters rise into the sky
building a new river
majority of course
despite having drank a glass full
still
do not signify belief
they all claim
we are still asleep...
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Adelaida
She's a flower in the desert
thirsting for the living water;
Her petals start to fall
with the burning sun scorching her,
the cruel sands hurting
while the wind is merely blowing.
You could see she's all alone -
a flower in the desert.
You could see her tears flowing,
making her alive -
for all those years she tried
to hide the pain she felt inside.
She never knew her tears,
sweet tears is making her alive.
Of how strong she was,
she never knew.
She watched herself as petals fell and flew -
even her broken heart fell...
but her contrite spirit cried in mighty prayer
to Him that's waiting for her prayer.
It rained. In the desert, it rained.
The once dying flower has blossomed.
With her face towards the heavens,
her thirst was quenched.
For out of her humble prayer
came the living water...
springing up unto everlasting life.
2June2011
Batac
For our investigator, Adelaida.
poem by Jessel Jane Tevar
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Blooming Of Flower
sky is full of stars
river is full of water
desert is full of sand
flower is blooming
blooming flower is shining
at last the flower is going to die
poem by Fayisck Cmsu
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for J....
I am glad
having said
i could have loved you more...
it is sad
when love withers
due to your suns
when the desert bears more sands
because you hated more
about dreams of waters
rains are strangers
and the caravan of camels
are trains of thoughts
traveling at night
and not knowing what days are...
i am an oasis
and i have no place for you anymore
the leaves of my date palms
do not recognize your songs
anymore.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Morning Mumblings.....
the dog always knows
who is its master,
the master likes it
of course,
we however, remains to
be the sands in the desert
thirsting for water
thriving on tiny violets and
cactus and scorpions and
rattlesnakes,
we have refused the name of
the source of water
we infused instead the comfort
of the night
relying on the thick blankets
that we have kept for ourselves
the camels brayed,
the stones are so silent
the palms sing
the olives keep its oil
the dog barks at the
wrong tree
the moon sails and
falls upon the edge of the horizon
the riddles keep a shape
of a face shaking its head
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Pity The Violets
in the desert
some tiny flowers grow
the sands are blown by the wind
and we cover our eyes
we do not want to be harmed
we continue walking
in the desert some tiny
violets still grow as tiny as sand
no wind is that so cruel
to blow them all away
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Even In The Driest Of The Desert
out there
in the driest part of the desert
a flower still thrives
thin leaves
and tiny petals
stalks like wires
and roots
penetrating the softness
of the sands
out there
it is preaching of hope
resiliency
some flowers are scarlet
deep blue
but nowhere can you find
black
black is the color of death
red is the color of
the wounded sands.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Little Black Bird
little black bird of Lia
flying away to Arizona
how is that little black
bird? what is it doing
in the desert? watching
how God paints a very
red orange sunset and
how the wind of the night
erases everything? Little
Black bird of Lia, what
is the reason for the
the leaving of devotion?
is sincerity still found
on that desert flower
blooming without water?
the cactus and some thorns
my loneliness deep like
the desert night, my longing
wide like the wind, my
illusions that life still
imitate art, that i can be
myself. Blackness and wings.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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One Moment in Time
A single orange daisy.
Blooming from the sidewalk crack.
In the early morning.
Dew dripping off its delicate petals.
The sun is rising.
The flower struggles to survive.
Rising up from the concert it blossoms with new hope.
I’m going to live.
A small girl.
Pink dress and shiny black shoes.
She sees the flower.
The flower.
Wet petals, bursting with new light and hope.
She waddles over.
And picks it.
The flower.
It’s life.
Gone.
In just one moment in time.
-Madelyn
poem by Madelyn Burnham
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Camels And Donkeys
Camels have played their parts in the desert banks,
For the human traffic had been moblised with the help of the camels;
And of many years gone by on the desert rods to transport itwms,
With casting shadows on thier various tracks as they move along.
Now or never,
Mankind had made used of the camels for long!
And like a camel ride at the tourist centres in Egypt,
So be my guest on the desert zones of Africa! !
I have never seen anything like this before,
But with their fellow mates as the donkeys to help them along at times;
For the monkeys at your homes are always ready to play!
Camels and donkeys,
Used from old and to the present time;
And like a picturesque speech to evaluate yourself,
But long in a queue from sunrise to sunset as they move along with heavy loads! !
Camels and donkeys,
Feed them enough and they will do their works;
For the load carriers have nothing to say,
And they are the best animals around to help transport heavy loads along the desert routes.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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Pink Flowers.
Do not text me or think otherwise
I am just picking flowers from my garden.
Last evening I picked a red rose but
Wow! It proved to be too red for my date
Today I visited the same garden
The only flower I found was a white rose.
Where is my favourite pink rose?
This morning I cycled to the market
Sure, to buy my date a pink rose
But the only roses there were yellow and purple.
Tried to enquire where I could get one
But no one knows where to find.
Went to my flower vendor but nowhere to find
Where will I get my pink rose for my date?
Tomorrow, I'll travel far and wide
Only to get this precious pink flower
And if I succeed, my date will be happy
And my heart will find a solace rest
Amidst the residue of love petals
Just with the pink flower petals.
Where will I get my Pink rose flower?
(Dedicated for my pink flower date)
poem by Aron Lelei
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For Wanting To Write....
perhaps, because of this
i may end up
with a head cut, or
a body shredded like
cheese,
tired limbs like
burnt toast,
perhaps because of that
i may not reach
what destination is reserved by
the lines of my palms,
perhaps i may not even end at
all,
because here you are
reading these lines
and you will like them
not because they are as palatable
as exotic friend frogs
but because you have felt sorrow
and have the smell of pain
the sound of acidic rain
over your hair
now melting and before you notice it
you too have become bald
because of having known much
than what is permitted by all these lines
it is about us,
it is about our being part of this vast
nothingness
sands of the desert
light of the moon spreading on sands of the desert nights
hushing wind
taking all the possible directions
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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My Mysterious Flower
Fragrant -Mauve, Purple - Flower
Violet my best flower
You make me at ease you give me Power
Lavender Flower - Mysterious Flower
what a relaxing scent! There is No More Stress
a field of Lavender thwarts a deep Sadness
You're my balm - you soothe my annoyance
Just one deep breath- I go into a trance
your enigmatic color, make me pensive
meditiative
contemplative,
introspective,
reflective.
I wonder the Lavender scenery
I dive
no north, no south, no east, no west
I am your faithful captive.
poem by Glamorous Enigma
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Automation
a seed that falls to the ground
from a dead, rotten fruit
cracks its covering and
sprouts
a tight bud soon
from a stalk opens up to become
a full blooming flower
with petals proud and
dignified
and so must you girl
be the seed and the bud
and be the full flower that you can be
in full automation
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Winds Of Change
Walk softly through the
Desert sands
Careful where you tread
Underfoot are the visions lost
Sleeping not yet dead
Hang on - winds starting to howl
Hang on - the beast is on the prowl
Hang on - can you hear the
Strange cry
Winds of change are blowing by
Mountains crumble and cities fall
Don't come to an end
Just lie scattered on the
Desert floor
Waiting for the wind
Chorus
You got your life planned carefully
But you left out one detail
The hidden hand deals just one round
And the winds of change prevail
Chorus
Walk softly through the desert sand
Old dreams lead the way
Nothing new in the sands of time
Just changes every day
Hang on - it's starting again
Hang on - there's no shelter from
The wind
Hang on - like a fire from the sky
Winds of change are blowing by
song performed by by Jefferson Starship
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Valentine Day the special one
One ready for a date and wait for the special one
But who will be one and date special one
No one is special because haven’t got the one
Why one date tonight special just for you
If I am special one it this just for a night
No way will I call anyone to be the special
One NIGHT
But go to open night to find one special
Party dance laugher and CATCH
End of night holding hand in hand
Together walk to valley Park
Under the moon and shining star
The moon warm and orange light
The wishing star twinkle above
Special one and to the entire life
Go out enjoy and search the crowd
Wish star and bring home the Crown
poem by See Fee Lee
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