You Sing And I Write

you sing and i write
you sing louder
and i write some more
as i do not sleep
as early as you
want to

to sleep with you and keep you warm
and keep you happy
and so secure

and then you stop singing
as i still go on writing and writing and writing and writing still
without minding that you already stopped singing

and you wished
that this house burns itself
that i too burn myself with it
that i may finally become ash
that i finally be blown by air as nothing but dust

and then she may finally continue
her singing and even dancing
and learn to fiddle the strings her new violin

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No One Can Stop Us To Write

and they must know the reason why,
simple enough
we are writers and our essence is to write
for writing's sake
nothing aimed nothing gained nothing lost
we write because we are here
and we are here because we write
we write because if we do not
we no longer become ourselves
we lose our salt we become just like any
flesh, rotten, infected with bacteria
foul, and finally become just dust
on the corner of the road

we write and we keep on writing
because we are
we do not need the praise
or the condemnation
we do not need an audience
or an empty space

we write because we are
that is our essence and no one can stop us

except perhaps when the word is gone.

poem by Ric S. BastasaReport problemRelated quotes
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Dear Friend

i always love to write, as early as
gradeschool when we were classmates
while you were playing and chasing and stumbling
i just sat on the grass of the playground under a tree and scribble anything
and read a lot about some stories with lots of pictures
and colors of fairies and kings and queens and butterflies and bees,

i do not stop writing, in fact, writing has become my life
that without words i may die an instant death
i dream that i have written novels and stories and lots of poems
i wake up with some ideas like some seeds that i want to sow
and grow in the field and see them become shrubs and trees and forests

and i keep on this life writing and writing and writing and writing
for writing's sake and i wish i may live longer so i may write
some more, some sequels of my love stories and suspense thrillers
and write finally all the poems that are inside my mind
hanging like ripe grapes and creeping like vines on my fence

as i am writing now as you always want to read me
until such time my friend that i will die, or end my life myself (who knows?)
(i will not talk about it now, it is something bizarre and makes me
shiver, but who knows, well you know, all are but possibilities and nothing
but possibilities in this vast wide world of realities and dreams)


there is something i must say somehow
there is something that i must have forgotten, i have not written about myself
i have always written about them, about you, about the world,

please do not refuse me, stop playing with your life,
gradeschool ended
a long time ago, i have one and ultimate request:

write the story of my life, because it is you who only knows about it.

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Primary Education

Read
Reading will let you know many things
Reading is a good habit.
(Read)

Write
Writing will convey your message
Day and night.
(Write)

Paint
Painting is a way to express your thought
Paint even if you are a saint.
(Paint)

Sing
Singing is a way to express emotions
Let singing be your engagement ring.
(Sing)

Dance
Dancing will wipe out your pain
So don’t miss the chance.
(Dance)

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And What Is Your Wife Doing?

well, she is in the music room
singing the Anne Murray songs

as i make my poems for the day
writing about Anne Murray

and why do you ask? oh i know
it is true we are not talking, precisely

because she is singing and i am into
this poetry writing and yes, i ask you

why do you keep on reading?
every poem that i write, oh my, why?

alright, friends forever there shall be
no denying, and too truth telling, see?

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Anais Nin

If you do not breathe through writing, if you do not cry out in writing, or sing in writing, then don't write, because our culture has no use for it.

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If I Can Go On Writing Poems

IF I CAN GO ON WRITING POEMS

If I can go on writing poems
I will be happy-

If I cannot go on
I will lose something of myself-

I wonder how long I will be able to go on
Days? Years? How long exactly?

I write happily now
A poem I know I can post-
Without that I might be less happy about it-

If I can go on writing poems
This will be a sign I still have hope in life-

When I am stopped or stop
Will it mean I am finished
As a person also?

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I Come Alive In Writing

I come alive in writing
Even if the writing means nothing to anyone else-
I come alive in writing
Even if I am totally deluding myself as to its value-
I come alive in writing
Even if at times while writing there is an underlying hopelessness and despair -

I come alive in writing
As if writing is what God has given me to do-
I come alive in writing
As if through it I can truly give to and help others-
I come alive in writing
As if life has meaning through it-

I come alive in writing
Even when I sense the writing is not good or great
As I would wish it to be.

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When I Write About Giving Up Writing

WHEN I WRITE ABOUT GIVING UP WRITING

When I write about giving up writing,
I am not giving it up
I am instead trying to find another justification for continuing-

I am not giving up then-
If the whole effort is futile
If in the end it will mean nothing
If I despair of it even as I continue it
Still
I will not give up.
I cannot give up.

What else do I have, after all, except the writing?
After all these years of giving my life to it
What other work could ever mean so much?

Even if I fail in it
It is who I am
And what I can do.

I am writing again now
What else can I do?

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And So I'm Writing...

I'm hard-pressed for time,
yet I do have the heart
And so I'm writing
Know not what to pen down,
have a paper to write on
And so I'm writing

May be I'll write about 'you and me'
Or may be of 'us and them'
Feel like playing with words
And so I'm writing

May be that starving beggar's hungry looks
Or that homeless Child's beckoning eyes
Are making me scribble these lines to you
And so I'm writing

May be you'll find my words vague
Or you might decipher a meaning
Intend to leave you in the oblivion
And so I'm writing

Whatever might be the impression I create
Wish to see its reflection on your soul
And leave an imprint on your mind
And so I'm writing

May be you and I've become immune
To the pathos of mankind
Or may be there's still
A dropp of humanity flowing deep within us
Wish to arouse 'The Human Being' in you
And so I'm writing...

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Writing Is Like A Diet

It is not easy to write.
Even if one likes it...
Writing is like a challenge.
An obstacle to face.
And when confronted,
To make use of it...
A discipline applied,
Is what it takes!

It is not easy to write.
Even if one likes it.
Those who do may not sleep,
At night.
Or discover they have lost an appetite.

Writing is like a diet.
And accepting it becomes a way of life.
Those who ask how writing is done...
Usually have no idea,
Of what they must overcome.

Some believe writing is nothing but fun.
But those committed...
Know writing is more like a spouse,
That can be quiet as a mouse.
Then at other times a shouting occurs...
Heard from the inside,
With a wish to come out!

Writing is like a diet.
And accepting it becomes a way of life.

It is not easy to write.
Even if one likes it!
Writing is like a challenge.
An obstacle to face.
And when confronted,
To make use of it...
A discipline applied,
Is what it takes!

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Love, Music, and Dancing

I can't describe this feeling
So I really don't know why I'm writing about it
But I have to put it down on paper
To hold it and keep it safe
Just in case I forget and need to remind myself

I know you might be thinking about love
And love is glorious, don't get me wrong
But love's so overdone
I wouldn't need to write it myself to remind myself

I need to write about how music feels
And how, when you hear a great classic
Or even something you've never even heard before
You have to stop and listen
And do you know what?
Now that I think about it
It does feel like love
But it's still different

For a second
You're IN the music
And you can't catch your breath
And it feels like you know everything
Just for a second

And then, it makes you dance
So I guess I'm writing about that, too
Because to me love feels the same as music
And they both feel like dancing
Love, and music, and dancing
That's what it feels like

Spinning and leaping
Singing terribly
And yelling ''I YOU''
At the top of my lungs

Because in that second
I love everyone
And everything
And it all feels like
Love
Music
And dancing
And I guess I can write about it, too

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Planning to write is not writing. Outlining, researching, talking to people about what you're doing, none of that is writing. Writing is writing.

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A love poem to a poem

for there’s what you planned to write about,
and what you find yourself
writing about; perhaps
find yourself, while writing about..

and there’s the poem itself; did you
consult it about what
its plans were? and when
it’s got itself written,
gone where it wanted to,
said what it wanted to say,
become what it wanted to become,
do you really know
what it’s finally and really about?

is it telling you more about
you than you knew yourself?
is the poem writing you?

did we, as with the unicorn,
feel the unspoken need for it,
and it became?

in some other world,
did two grains of dust change places?
did a new sort of light
shine on a new sort of place
in some new sort of time?

poems are like cats:
we think we own them;
they allow us certain rights,
but they own us.

this is a love poem
to a poem

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What Will I Do Today And What Will I Do Tomorrow?

What will I do today and what will I do tomorrow
And what will I do for the rest of my life?
Write and write and write
Until I can no longer write –

And even if this writing is never known?
And even if this writing is wholly lost?
And even if this writing is not really worth very much?
And even if it is known only a little?
And even if others are highly critical of it?
And even if it seems vanity of vanity and only vanity?

Write and write and write
To the end of my life.

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To be a writer

They say, when you have nothing to say
Do not say anything
They say when you have nothing good to say
Do not say anything
He is not convinced
He wants to be a writer and to be one he must write
What is in his mind
To be a writer he must write and write and write
Even when there is nothing to write
Even when there is nothing to say even when nobody listens
Even when the word is dead even when there is no sense at all
Even when he gets blind and deaf and mute even when his fingers are cut even when his mind is blank even when his consciousness is lost
Even when you are angry even when you say what is written is nothing
But trash, dung, cadaver, corpse, poo, pee, even when there is nothing
Anymore,
He writes because he is a writer and no one can stop him now.
he is
he is writing
he is writing always
he is writing always whatever that needs to be written

and here you are foolishly reading. thanks to you, audience of one.

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For A Change

Managed to finish my assignment and this makes me feel so happy. Yes, for a change I am feeling happy since I completed my writing work without any trouble. All that I did was to let my mind flow smoothly, of which the result was completion.
Now, for a change I will be writing few creative verses before finally going to sleep as it is nearly 3: 00Am in the morning. Meaning, that it is April fool's day today, although I am not fooling anyone because I am always very sincere.

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I Wish They'd Hurry Up and Come

When will they come
when will they turn up?
been sitting here for hours
it's so frustrating.
Sometimes they arrive
all at once, but times like now
they don't, it's so annoying.
Well if they don't come soon
that's it I'm not bothering anymore.
If I'd known it was going to be like this,
I wouldn't have started it all up again.
At last one has finally arrived,
now two, then three, then four,
wonders will never cease.
Finally I can get down to business
get it all down in writing.
Never thought that writing a novel
could be such hard work,
waiting for ideas and inspiration to come.

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I think finally good writing gets out there, and people like it, and bad writing doesn't. Well, no. Bad writing does get out there 'cause some people like it.

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Your Dog Dies

it gets run over by a van.
you find it at the side of the road
and bury it.
you feel bad about it.
you feel bad personally,
but you feel bad for your daughter
because it was her pet,
and she loved it so.
she used to croon to it
and let it sleep in her bed.
you write a poem about it.
you call it a poem for your daughter,
about the dog getting run over by a van
and how you looked after it,
took it out into the woods
and buried it deep, deep,
and that poem turns out so good
you're almost glad the little dog
was run over, or else you'd never
have written that good poem.
then you sit down to write
a poem about writing a poem
about the death of that dog,
but while you're writing you
hear a woman scream
your name, your first name,
both syllables,
and your heart stops.
after a minute, you continue writing.
she screams again.
you wonder how long this can go on.

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Soyinka, Intro

'But the ultimate lesson is just sit down and write.
That's all.'


so with you charles.
and so with me
here i am
writing and writing ang writing

that's all
no questions asked
anymore

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