You May Start Seeing The Dead Earthworms
for a start you have seen dead earthworms
along a muddy pavement
you theorize about their deaths
the reasons
perhaps the waters in the canal rose
and drowned them last night
when you were asleep
perhaps the sun was so hot the other day
while you were working
hard in the office and so they
were scorched
to death
i like it when you reason out
but i like you more when you were sad
and wrote something about
these dead earthworms
and then i slept for days
and dreamed that we hear the earthworms
sing their own songs
in the notes and lyrics of their own
something strange really but
i am so happy
the earthworms too do not just die
they also rise
and they also sing
it will be another beginning for us,
a happy one i suppose
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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The One Who Notices The Earthworms
if you notice how the earthworms
die and you you hear their
last sad songs
the night before
they all perished
on that pavement
at the last hour
when the waters
rise
when you hear
them scream
after their
saddest sighs
the last one
when you
finally hear
their silence
like a
period
of the
long sentence that you have written
i know your name
you are
the poet
from the
line of
issa
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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The Star
I HAD a star to sing by, a beautiful star that led,
But when I sang of its splendour the world in its wisdom said:
'Sweet are your songs, yet the singer sings but in madness when
He hymns but stars unbeholden of us his fellows of men;
Glow-worms we see and marshlights; sing us sweet songs of those
For the guerdons we have to give you, laurel and gold and rose;
Or if you must sing of stars, unseen of your brother man,
Go, starve with your eyes on your vision; your star may save if it can!'
So I said, 'If I starve and die I never again shall see
The glory, the high white radiance that hallows the world for me;
I will sing their songs, if it must be, and when I have golden store,
I will turn from the marsh and the glow-worms, and sing of my star once more.'
So I walked in the warm wet by-ways, not daring to lift my eyes
Lest love should drive me to singing my star supreme in the skies,
And the world cried out, 'We will crown him, he sings of the lights that are,
Glories of marshlight and glow-worms, not visions vain of a star!'
I said, 'Now my brows are laurelled, my hands filled full of their gold,
I will sing the starry songs that these earthworms bade withhold.
It is time to sing of my star!' for I dreamed that my star still shone,
Then I lifted my eyes in my triumph. Night! night! and my star was gone.
poem by Edith Nesbit
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Thirty Dirty Birds
Thirty dirty birds
Sitting on a curb
Chirping and Burping
And eating
Dirty earthworms
Along comes Herbie
From thirty-third
And third
Saw the thirty
Dirty birds
Sitting on a curb
Chirping and Burping
And eating
Dirty earthworms
Boy he was
Disturbed
song performed by by Red Hot Chili Peppers from Freaky Styley
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The ducks
In the monsoon rain
The ducks are eating earthworms
And quacking in joy
poem by Asif Andalib
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Where we live in is not seen.
Fish do not see the water.
Earthworms do not see the earth.
Germs do not see the air.
Man too does not see the All Pervasive.
28.09.2007
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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A Discovery
NOW IT It has become
certain that the ants are saving
almost anything
from crumbs of bread to
cut pieces of leaves
and shreds of earthworms
not because they expect
to live for the rainy days
or survive the
storm
but because
they all want to escape
from the oppression
of the
Grasshopper.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Back To February...
there is no point
returning
to that red day
of February
there is nothing
there
except a heap of
rotten leaves
underneath are the
feasting
earthworms
boasting about their
self-proclaimed
independence
t hemselves upon
themselves
even the sun is
not needed
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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To a Young Poet who Killed Himself
1 When you had played with life a space
2 And made it drink and lust and sing,
3 You flung it back into God's face
4 And thought you did a noble thing.
5 "Lo, I have lived and loved," you said,
6 "And sung to fools too dull to hear me.
7 Now for a cool and grassy bed
8 With violets in blossom near me."
9 Well, rest is good for weary feet,
10 Although they ran for no great prize;
11 And violets are very sweet,
12 Although their roots are in your eyes.
13 But hark to what the earthworms say
14 Who share with you your muddy haven:
15 "The fight was on -- you ran away.
16 You are a coward and a craven."
17 "The rug is ruined where you bled;
18 It was a dirty way to die!
19 To put a bullet through your head
20 And make a silly woman cry!
21 You could not vex the merry stars
22 Nor make them heed you, dead or living.
23 Not all your puny anger mars
24 God's irresistible forgiving.
25 "Yes, God forgives and men forget,
26 And you're forgiven and forgotten.
27 You may be gaily sinning yet
28 And quick and fresh instead of rotten.
29 And when you think of love and fame
30 And all that might have come to pass,
31 Then don't you feel a little shame?
32 And don't you think you were an ass?"
poem by Joyce Kilmer
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Your Simple Dream
you have traveled far
and studied in different
universities and these
did not really make you
happy,
your dream is so simple
as having to caress
a shoulder
brown and wide
enough to fill
your emptiness,
and tonight you fulfill
said dream
your palms land
on the patch of your
simplest dream
to love and
simply be loved in return
and your eyes look
with such a lovely blink
like a dim light
of the bulb teasing
the walls and the ceiling
and the window
and doors now all
shut because of you
they must die in
envy with you
and you let love
swim in your swamps
fly in your clouds
and walk on your
mountains
you let all the birds
sing and the earthworms
burrow
there is no patch in
you that is lacking
each is full and filled
with scent and color
and texture
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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In The River
when the wind finally
drains the water
from the pond when the sun
dries all that is left
of the drops
the fish shall die and
the moss shall wilt and
the crabs and earthworms
shall perish
except the mud and stones
their silence shouts for joy
now is their turn to know
heat and warmth
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Ravaged
Cutting across the food wars
against adamant century
do you think we will become extinct in this
uncool climate?
The dying windows do not throw any light.
I fear in dark alone.
The earthworms are nibbling
at history of mankind.
wearing the ash of dead rivers.
Between the same words
god disappears
and what is left is the image of broken
violins.
Why don’t you set the birds free
and break the cage of knowledge?
The searing heat of arguments
will find the golden silence.
poem by Satish Verma
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Please Don't Say Any Word
what happened during the night was strictly between us
let the stars and the moon be our witnesses
when the morning comes with a break of some news
let that be not about us
please do not say any word for the birds and the flowers
these things are matters of the bees
let not even the ants know or the earthworms
or the snails and the clams of the rivers and seas
please do not say any word, It is enough that both of us
keep the secrets of our past joys and present pains
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Notes From Mambukal
i am learning
from the towering trees
i have seen the right of birds
to have a home
the co-existence of bats and
snakes
the essence of ripe fruits
that must remain on the ground
until they are rotten
when birds leave the seeds
after consuming all pulp
and flesh
the songs of birds
love calls
the hisses of snakes
the chants of earthworms
it was a night
when i dip my body to that hot spring
with healthy sulfur breaths
from volcanic
woman
when i make my self still
listening
always listening
and simply feeling what is warm
and tender
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Dead Library
There they go, bearing him in tears;
another gift for termites and earthworms,
another place in history foregone.
Just humus to the soil for all his toil.
Had I known, the poor fellow cried,
a break from pursuit of wealth and health
I would have taken to make felt
my Name in the pages of history.
Jets, cars and chariots all shall fade.
Castles, plantations all shall be obscured
with time's demise but history salutes
those who march on it in inky lines.
They that add no lines to the living
library get dead alongside their texts.
Selfishly, they read and saw nothing to write.
Read by none, their texts are in the Dead Library.
Mazi Ikechukwu Bismarck Oji
18th June,2010
poem by Ike Bismarck Oji
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Ibises
The golden cocker spaniel
tried to catch some sacred ibises
where they were pecking
the ground
for snails and earthworms
and they were flapping
their huge wings
and screaming in rage
while they got airborne
and the small dog
came back to me
wagging the stump
of its snipped off tail
as if reporting back
that it had done its duty.
poem by Gert Strydom
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Joy Of Spring
A Spring morning
A warm Breeze
doves cooing softly
Pollen dusted trees
A few brave violets
A red streaked dawn
A very early robin
Earthworms in the lawn
Spring peeper frogs
Smell of dogwood blossoms
Nature’s petroglyphs in muddy bogs
Footprints left by possums
Easter eggs and bonnets
Chocolate rabbits, Missing ears
Jelly beans and sonnets
Spilled easter baskets, children’s tears
Parades,
leafy bowers
Lemonades
Spring showers
Spring mornings
Warm breezes
Deep breaths
Allergic sneezes
Smell of Fresh blossoms
Sound of birds as they sing
Joy of life.. joy of being…
…Joy of Spring
poem by David Whalen
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This House This Home
in this house the music of the night
is the soft rain from the sky falling upon the grass
like tiptoeing mothers watching their young children
sleeping and kissing their foreheads
there is no burning fire here from wood
and there is no smoke from a cigarette
it is dark as usual but it is desirable
even darker as there are no stars tonight
i am not sad
i am at home with myself in this house
i hear the symphony of winds and whispers
from the leaves of trees and the chants of earthworms
it is cold and so i have closed all the windows and doors
& then i curl beneath my blanket of roses
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Sorrow And Silence Walking Hand In Hand
it is the sorrow that is always cold
cold as the moist ground
where the earthworms live
it has hands less the warmth of the
callousness
and it is the silence with a veil
nothing to speak about
that keeps on holding my heart
it has no hands anymore
but it has strong wings
and sharp beak
there is a land somewhere
where the eggs must be put to finally
make out
a sense of home
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Epidemic
Men, unprepared, tremble
in scared confrontation
with nightmares no nation
now dares to dissemble.
Protesters assemble,
unconscious of station,
beware explanation,
aware it resembles
a plague. So they tremble
and in consternation
seek some consolation...
while earthworms assemble...
Still scientists tremble
as genes reassemble.
poem by Jonathan Robin
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Dad, sometimes when I dream
Dad, sometimes when I dream
it is as if I remember your voice,
as if the hairs on my arms again rise
like when you read the poem
about the cannibal to me
finding me on the polished red porch
where my brother cornered me
with a open hosepipe
and I did not want to go into the house
as he would follow me in to it
and he and you and I,
everyone laughed
like naughty children
as if we would on a weekend
get into the shining black car,
drive to the Vaal River
to find a angling place near to Villiers
there next to the stream dig out earthworms
for bait, stringing corn
to a hook
and you would cast my line out very far
but much too early you turned into earth
and your spirit is resting, where you lie unaware
and I am still reaching out to you
as if I again want you to embrace me.
poem by Gert Strydom
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