Related quotes: i am in the middle...

Where Am I? I Am In The Middle Of An Idea.

i am in the middle of an idea.
it is like a river always flowing.
at the top are blessings like rain
on a clear bright day, and on the
ground are glistening dews,
like diamonds. On the right side
are trees filled with ripe fruits,
and below them are bushes
filled with yellow flowers. On the
left side of this river, are stones,
and cliffs, and crevices, and
at the height of all these silence,
is the call of the west wind.
There is a confusion somewhere.
But there is also a certainty like
the brightness of the sun. I am torn
between these two choices.
I am in the middle of this idea.
Like a river, i continue flowing.

Like the driftwood, i no longer care.

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Related quotes

The River of Rivers in Connecticut

There is a great river this side of Stygia
Before one comes to the first black cataracts
And trees that lack the intelligence of trees.

In that river, far this side of Stygia,
The mere flowing of the water is a gayety,
Flashing and flashing in the sun. On its banks,

No shadow walks. The river is fateful,
Like the last one. But there is no ferryman.
He could not bend against its propelling force.

It is not to be seen beneath the appearances
That tell of it. The steeple at Farmington
Stands glistening and Haddam shines and sways.

It is the third commonness with light and air,
A curriculum, a vigor, a local abstraction . . .
Call it, one more, a river, an unnamed flowing,

Space-filled, reflecting the seasons, the folk-lore
Of each of the senses; call it, again and again,
The river that flows nowhere, like a sea.

poem by Wallace Stevens
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Dreamy River

There's a dreamy river flowing
Down the street from my house
I walk down there after work
But I paddle my way home

There's a dreamy river flowing
On every street corner in the world
And if that young moon is in the sky
She'll wink at you and let you pass by

There's a dreamy river flowing
From my refrigerator into my mouth
It only costs a few dollars
To keep those shelves stocked

There's a dreamy river flowing
From my mouth into my gut
There's a dreamy river flowing
From my wank into the street
There's a dreamy river flowing
In my mind as I lay to sleep

There's a dreamy river flowing
From a town I've never been to
Across this great country
And also from overseas
Sometimes from people's kitchens
Transversing time and space
I float down this river
Every night and day

There's a dreamy river flowing
From the hops and the malts and sugar
I call it my brother, I call it my wife
I call it my true friend

Let me float upon you dreamy river
And drown all these sorrows
That call to me from pasts I've severed

poem by Spencer Breau
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Assets

O flowing river feed the well
Before you leave and say: “farewell”
You've gone away, the well is dry
I often ask and wonder why

It’s just a hole, an empty shell
O flowing river feed the well
You said that you would never end
And I believed you were a friend

I love that well, there is no doubt
It’s since dried up and left a drought
O flowing river feed the well
And keep me safe within your spell

The river’s gone, the well dried up
It left me with an empty cup
I'm lost in this financial hell
O flowing river feed the well

poem by Amera Andersen
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Emoting Emotions For Emo, The Hermit Kemit

IT is fluvial, there is a river, and a boat
there are tears in the river with a boat sailing one early morning
when you wake up, without him by your side, though there is a note,
saying, i will be away for two weeks in Davao,
company thing, compulsory ones, meetings and discussions
what to do, and where, and it will be long.

excuses.
lies.
deceptions of angels
and demons.
goddammit

he is with her and i am here, you say it yourself,
you are here alone, by the side of the river, flowing in a valley of tears.;

he's in the arms of the other woman who is feeling hot and sexy all over.
it is the note.
You respond, with
' i trust you'

Keep loving.

definitely, you're not hermit, the Kermit, she is the Emo,
emoting
emotions, by the side of the flowing river, the tears are valleys.

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Just Follow The Flow

just follow the flow
of words like the water flowing on the river
like the paper boat on the water flowing to the river
like the river flowing through the edges of banks
above the stones and pebbles of
everything swerving from mountain to mountain
of least resistances
the rocks that block your path you
just kiss them and then you go
following the flow again with the wind above you

just folow the flow of your thoughts in your heart
you do not even like to see
everything is smooth, freely flowing, taking shape
and form and having scent and perfume and so exuding

and then
an explosion inside well kept and taken care of

it is great, it is really great that feeling
so short and quick and yet so appealing

no one hears it except you because you
love it and so it has become so real

to your touch

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Flowing Red River

I dive head first into the flowing red river.
It's acrid taste fills my mouth.
I drown in it's putrid depths.
My heart pounds and excitement grips.

As the flowing red river drips.
I cannot contain my growing glee.
I cannot wait to feed on it's bounty.
From down below I stand up straight.
I rise to greet this wonderful fate.

The flowing red river fills me up.
I bend right down from it to suck.
In and out I feel such love.
It cleans my soul flowing red river runs.

I feel it right now it's almost gone.
The pinnacle of joy hits like a bomb.
Yet I'm sad when the flowing red rivers gone.
Fear not though we'll always meet.
When the flowing red river comes to greet.

poem by Michael McParland
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It's a river

When the time keeps passing and the world goes round
and the sea is crashing at the cliffs and the sounds
erupting as the seabirds cry, you can watch the river
as the time goes by

And it's like it's holy and it can be hell
and you feel so lonely and you fear the smell
of the guns that fire then you see the light
of a rainbow dawning and you realise
that the river's flowing as the time goes by

And you met the people and you knew them well
and you said you loved them and you rang the bell
in the tree of life you watched them grow
and the world is turning as the river flows

The earth smells good and the sky turns gold
when the birds are singing and you bless the old
you can kiss your woman and it feels so right
as you touch the river as the time goes by

As you stand barefoot upon the morning shore
and you feel the centuries of death and war
and the wind is biting and it tears your skin
and the river's flowing where its always been

And the river washes and the river's clean
and the soul remembers where the river's been
as you watch it tumble and you watch it flow
your life's a river now you know, now you know
your life's a river now you know.

poem by Charles M. Moore
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Listen to the Flowing River

The fisherman used to cast his line into the running water
And take what the flowing river allowed him to receive
Now he’s watching as the pollutants slaughter
No longer can he wade out from the shore, a time to grieve.
He looks down on the river sadly mourning
Detests the modern world that lives within
The river’s surface shadows a simple warning
A positive transformation must begin.
We must close our eyes and listen to the flowing river
We must open up our hearts and take one more chance
To take a stand, don’t yield, don’t quiver
Make a choice not to live in this world as victims of circumstance.
No longer watch as acid rain continues to pour down – to sorrow
Should not let our expectations fill with fear
Everyone look out to new horizons on the morrow
The lamp of knowledge is coming here.
Let the rejoicing ring out in the heartland
And thank the Lord and pour blessings on his name, amen
May the future be true for our sons and daughters – delivered with a helping hand
Listen to the flowing river as the fish swim upstream once again.

'2007'

poem by Robert Sheridan
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Dog River Blues

Well I first kissed you on a hollow log
Down by the river they call the dog
We fell in love and we vowed that day
Like the flow of the river our love wont change
Well we married that spring and we built a house
On the bank of the river where the rock juts out
Now the rivers still here but youre long gone
You left me and the river here all alone
I got the dog river blues
Ive walked holes in both my shoes
Now I still got the river but I aint got you
I got the dog river blues
Well the rain came down and the river rose up
Filled up the cab on my pickup truck
It came in the house and down the hall
And washed your picture right off the wall
Chorus
Well my heart still yearns and the river still rolls
And I pray someday itll bring you home
So if you change your mind honey Ill be here
Waiting on the banks of that oldog river
Chorus

song performed by by Alan Jackson
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Where Is The River?

Where is the river?
Is it here
Or somewhere else

Where is the river?
Is it here
Or hidden under the ground

Where is the river?
Is it here
Or safe inside the cave

Where is the river?
Is it here
Or still far away

Where is the river?
Is it here
Or up above the cloud

Where is the river?
Is it here
Or out of our reach

Where is the river?
Is it here
Or trickling on the rock

Where is the river?
Is it here
Or gathering in the pool

Where is the river?
Is it here
Or down over the cliff

Where is the river?
Is it here
Or just sight of illusion

Where is the river?
Is it here
Running in your eyes

Where is the river?
Is it here
Or sudden flood in the road

poem by Maria Sudibyo
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Mindless Of Who And What I Am

there is a flow of the river
like a stream of
my consciousness
that does not mind
driftwood
it minds its own sound
of flowing
on and on

there is no complaint
what burden is carried
what winding ways
to ease
that which is held with
least resistance

there is no rock so high
and hard
there is no obstruction
this river
that goes on with its song
on and on and on,

mindless of everything
the stones and birds staring.

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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On The Shore Of Nila (bharatha Puzha)

This is river is laughing,
with the thousands of jingles;
the river and bay tied each other,
but no one seen it;
she is flowing as a princess
the wet wind of river, is
passing through the greenly rocks;
please smile once more,
Oh! My dear river Nila
my love on you, is not gone;
the wind blowing slowly;
this steps in the shore;
Is taken to my youth,
O! My dear, please smile once more
in this shiny moonlight,
cool wind touched the river
of she is searching her lover

poem by I.p. Gopikrishnan Pisharody
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Emotions, Flowing Down A River...

Emotions, Flowing Down A River
Now, Who Will Give Her
Desire, To Reach Across The Space
Splash Cold Water In Her Face?

Tragic Tears, Within A Pool
Streaming Hot and Torrent Cruel
Like Acid To The Touch
Hurts Her Hope So Much

Where’s The Rain, Clean and Cold?
Softly Rinse, Seep Into Her Soul
Her Crystal Drops, Dissolved Trust
Flowing Downstream, Far From Us

Emotions, Flowing Down A River
Now, Who Will Deliver
Courage To Reach Across The Space?
She Slaps Away Any Embrace

Can You Go Against Her High Tides?
She Dams Her Own Broken Pride
She Can’t Forget They Took
Her Every Bubbling Brook

She’s Gone Past The River’s Bank
The Strong Currents, Slowly Sank
Drowned The Confused Flood
Drained Her Own Life-Blood …

Emotions, Flowing Down a River
Have Mercy and Forgive her
Who Will Reach Across The Space
And Remember Her Fluid Grace? …

... Flowing, Down A River

poem by MoonBee Canady
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Riverwalk

High above the mile high Colorado Rocky mountains,
Anywhere I see, I see the tall cliffs with silver lined snow caps,
The Alpine fir, blue spruce and oak trees abound,
The winter snow is gone, the summer greenery has come to stay.

In and around the trails,
I hear the music of river creek flowing down the hills,
The sparkling clean glacier water sings its own divine tune,
The gentle wind blows over and serenades her with whispering chime.

There are many obstacles in the river's path,
The fallen limbs, boulders and numerous rocks,
The river embraces these hurdles with tender touch,
It embraces, under flows, overflows, still playing its melodious tune.

I walk miles along the river walk,
I try to listen to the joy in the music of the current flowing fast and slow,
Whatever the intricacies and hurdles we face,
We must flow like the river, singing, dancing and living with joy.

poem by Jay P Narain
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The River of Me

I launched myself on the river me
Way back when I was two or three
I sailed out through the wall of snow
Beneath the bridge where all kids go

That Cheyenne Bodie was ten feet tall
His voice so deep it filled a hall
And that was who I dreamed I’d be
Until Cochise came on the scene

There was ice on the river and ice on the pond
And the singing nun sang on and on
There were trees on the river bank, cliffs by the sea
And fish galore in the river of me

The fields were full of cows, corn or wheat
The air was thick with bees and heat
The summer lasted all year long
I never knew til it was gone

And then of course came that high school girl
Her glances made my river swirl
More complex than the universe
I never knew what she’d do next

There was light on the river and light on the pond
And the singing nun sang on and on
There were trees on the river bank, cliffs by the sea
And fish galore in the river of me

And up we soared towards the sky
Through songs and dancing by and by
My waterfalls and waves ran high
For just the winking of an eye

And in the distance the quiet sea
was waiting on the river me
And on the banks the weeds grew tall
Where rusting leaves began to fall

Now there’s night on the river and night on the pond
And the singing nun is long since gone
There are trees on the river bank, cliffs by the sea
And memories in the river of me

I launched myself on the river me
Way back when I was two or three
I sailed out through the wall of snow
Beneath the bridge where all kids go

poem by Jim Hogg
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Youth's nightmare

Sweet surrender on the river side
In the morning to the shadow of moon dust
Near and far misses the Dog Star
That used to collect the youth here and there
A Frog Horn blown wild and cold
For you to remember the river side

Up come a coaster fast yet silent in the night
No money in the jacket and in the jeans’
To give for any ticket for a ride to hide
See them now on the railway remember all was
They walk into the darkness cast from the light
Time no longer a glance indeed a chance of joy
Think too many yeas was in
that scene from the river side

Melancholy a fear of yesteryears
Remember the offer that I would say
But sure not that man I used to be
Since knew you quite different as the river flow
Let’s go down deep to the promises
Bah, alas all they left the empty seat
As soon go feeling was in the river side

poem by Jordan Legaspi
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The River Ran Red: The Kalinga War

The river ran red; thousands died as they gave their lives
The king bowed his head; Widows and orphans this day
Families in mourning, and he, only he, was the cause.

The river ran red. Resistance at the cost of lives
Humans and animals died side by side
The mutilation and the pain, the Daya flowing red, flowing red
And thus it came about that

He knelt and cheeks wet, the King wept.

Edicts in stone that speak. Misery and bloodshed
But no glory. As far from glory as conscience can be
Watching the mayhem in misery..

The river ran red. The King wept.

poem by Rani Turton
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Two Silent People, Dying

you are silent
more silent than the stars above us
this mountain of
sorrow does not know the songs of sighs
it is as silent
as you
more silent than all the stars above us

i join you in this silence and i take a journey far from you
my thoughts are wings and they will not use words as vehicles
from my mouth there will be no sound too

what are we contemplating for? i ask myself.
you think of death, i know, but you have not guessed what i am thinking
i am tired of death, let it come when it comes,

i am thinking of those tiny things in my life
how they happen, how time flies too fast
and i am here with you left behind it like a hundred years

i go back to thinking about us bathing in the river
since we do not know how to swim we take hold of a driftwood
from nowhere

it teaches us how to swim
that driftwood from nowhere
and it is when that driftwood left us
that we struggle for our life
and then we have learned
how to drift, ultimately how to swim

we are here in the middle of this silent struggle
it is when it hurts best that we begin to learn how to think
how to think well more than the rest of those
who are not conscious of the shortness of the time left

it is here in the middle of our sorrow
that we become more intelligent, wisdom sprouts and grows
into a tree
in our heads, and we are soon carried to a height
where we see them all
away from us.

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Beautiful River

And he showed me a pure River of Water of Life, clear as crystal, proceeding out of the Throne of God and of the Lamb." -- Rev. xxii. 1

Shall we gather at the river
Where bright angel feet have trod;
With its crystal tide forever
Flowing by the throne of God?

CHORUS.