Drifting Pain
I am in retreat, for a music
of visitation,
playing with the words.
Mission failed,
the upheaval starts in the islands
of void, to find out
who was unglazed.
Folding the protuberance
in a pilfered fidelity, the shards
had no input in violence.
Mistrial. A half-mad moon
crashes on grass. The fireflies
resume the journey
to darkness.
The fangs were out
in green charm, in fierce silence
of the exhumed vault.
poem by Satish Verma
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Related quotes
One Saturday Morning At The Mountain Top Inside The House
it is raining outside
it is the habitualness of the image that flows inside us
green grass and rolling hills and clouds a drifting
the sound of rain like footsteps of children playing under the shower from heaven
i sit upon a chair looking outside
i am not thinking about anything simply watching the rain
the green grass
the trees the sea and the horizon that extends more than what my eyes can see
more than what i can contain
this empty bowl with a wide mouth open
this hollowness that cannot speak because it does not have the exact words
to say
it seems to me that the correct existence that fills this void is nothing
but the silence of the trees, the grass, the hills and the far away seas
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Once Heard-now Remembered
Light as a feather
she twirls, she spins
and that's before
the music begins.
The music's been playing.
It's not been heard.
But in her memory
her heart is stirred.
Since silence has come
all the music is done.
She relies on her past
when sounds were the sun.
In her head the tune's playing.
She feels it and starts swaying.
The sounds of the words
have all gone away.
But not the music,
it will always stay.
poem by Edwina Reizer
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Mistrial
When I was six, I had my first lady
When I was eight, my first drink
When I was fourteen, I was speeding in the street
What could anybody say to me
You can call me mister, you can call me sir
But dont you point your finger at me
I want a mistrial to clear my name
I want a mistrial in front of the people
I want a mistrial to clear my name
I want to bring my case to the people of new york city
When I was thirty, my attitude was bad
If I said differently itd be a lie
But theres some smarts you learn down in the street
That a college education cant buy
You can call me mister, or you can call me sir
But dont you point your finger at me, oh
I want a mistrial to clear my name
I want a mistrial in front of the people
I want a mistrial to clear my name
I want to bring my case to in front of the people at new york city
You can call me mister, or you can call me sir
But dont you point your finger at me, yeah
I want a mistrial to clear my name
I want a mistrial in front of the people, i, i
I want a mistrial to clear my name
I want to bring my case to the people at new york city
And I said m-i-s-t-r-i-a-l, mistrial
In front of all the people
I said m-i-s-t-r-i-a-l, mistrial
In front of the people of new york city
Mistrial
.... the people of new york city
I said mistrial
M-i-s-t-r-i-a-l ....
song performed by by Lou Reed
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Interpolations
It was the hiatus
that underlying silence
of which I was hearing the voices.
There was nothing left to be said.
I wanted to levitate in void
to unlearn what I understood.
Why the distance interpolates
between the guilt and acceptance?
Leaves are falling in different colors.
Time avenges, burns the grass,
the lips, the retina,
the black walls and white numbers.
Inner peace will return
on the ashes of fallen trees.
Life will resume another journey.
poem by Satish Verma
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Another Journey
It was the hiatus
that underlying silence
of which I was hearing the voices.
There was nothing left to be said.
I wanted to levitate in void
to unlearn what I understood.
Why the distance interpolates
between the guilt and acceptance?
Leaves are falling in different colors.
Time avenges, burns the grass,
the lips, the retina,
the black walls and white numbers.
Inner peace will return
On the ashes of fallen trees.
Life will resume another journey.
poem by Satish Verma
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A Beautiful Surrender 5885
Far away is our the distant thunder
in the darkness the darkness of our minds or
the darkness of our souls our eyes lit up lightning crashes and
and thunder strikes the heavens over and over
the earth gets pounded harder and harder stars
in the skies lookin down shining down on the darkness of the world
the void in the soul of the heart the hearts beatin away
the music singing songs of rejoice gone away the storms
the violence suns rising stars forming peoples smiling lookin upward downward skyward starlight shines in your eyes your heart beats
but a little bit faster oyu think of a beautiful gurl a sweet heart sweet sweet the winds whisper her name shes is everything and more
she is great ill always remember her
i ll always surrender everything to her
poem by Dorian Suchelle
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Meaning Of Fidelity
Fidelity is filled with eagerness and passion,
Fidelity is deeper than any emotion,
Fidelity is full of trust and compassion,
And is filled with a keen devotion.
Fidelity is filled with eagerness and passion,
Fidelity is a state of faithfulness from the heart,
Fidelity is an adherence to a special cause
And its' sworn vows will never part.
Fidelity is filled with eagerness and passion,
Fidelity is an allegiance bound to stand,
Fidelity is part of a Nation's domain,
And is steadfast throughout the land.
Fidelity is filled with eagerness and passion,
Fidelity is full of piety and ultimate care,
Fidelity is filled with an intense sense of duty,
And is like soothing music in the air.
poem by Joseph T. Renaldi
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Playing Golf at Midnight
Playing golf in the moonlight,
at midnight, at night, when light
cannot be trusted, when sight
deceives, it can’t be right.
He drives the sphere with the craters
like the moon, white like the moon,
orbiting like the moon; soon
it will collide with grass or sand, and
the black night will swallow the white
moon and the driving sphere
and no one will know where
went the white and where went the black
and why.
And after the ball has divorced its tee
and after the moon laughs
and retires behind the roofs
of the neighborhood houses,
the silence of the green
and the heartbreaking loveliness
of the green emerge and converge
and here in the suburban
wilderness, the only home he has,
he sees for the first time
how clouds absorb
and disperse
the light of the moon.
poem by Sonny Rainshine
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Some Silence, Some Words
Today somewhere a mirror broke
And a music of end splashed in the pages of time,
Someone lost his meanings in the broken mirror..
And an unending silence flowed
Many things happen silently, , ,
How the silent weeping of the lost meaning wander in the depth of the night, , ,
I unveil the sea of darkness...i find only silence
And the music of the end keeps on splashing around
Life is all about some silence and some words…
Far away a poet was looking for words, .
And a poem was seeking for its understanding, ,
for the heart where words dwell with meanings, ,
As long as they both were away everything was all right...
And when they met, , ,
the poet lamented on the end of words of the poem, , ,
and the poem on the unending silence of the poet, , , , ,
poems are not about understanding....
poet is not about words, , , ,
The Heart of the Warrior
With vision trapped in honey and ashes in the mouth
Journey's always end, pointing artic south
Beginning with a footstep made on unsure ground
It only took a mile to find our two feet bound
Resistance, such a weapon, is a warriors' excuse
Bit it shall be worn down and made of little use
The windows to the soul, they drip honey from their wells
And ashes is the mouth, testify the journey's failed
The spirit battered is a cloud begging imagination to mold
Though we failed the mission, we must fight against the cold
With hands that shake and shiver, from the freeze, from the pain
Faces devoid of color, and live now all but drained
Where is the mighty zeal that begat the warrior way?
I tell you it is somewhere, lost amongst the fray
The generals of industry know the soldiers' fortune can't endure,
If they are made to fight another cowards war
And we were like the wolves whose honey eyes are honey soaked
The ashes in out mouth shall tie the noose form freedoms rope
On the ground in front of us I see blood form wounded knees
But there shall be no master to hear our calls for peace
The consequence of determination was the ax that felled the tree
Still it was just a fall better days await both you and me
The journey and the night have been long, and the wounds run deep
But the fight is far from over, we must sustain another week
Life is but a journey that starts within the mind
The battlefield is calling we must stand the test of time
The fallen warrior knows that the last measure was his heart
And there is where the journey ends, and where the journey starts.
poem by Derrick Puente
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Tropical Recollection
The crashing of the glass
Shards of memory scattered throughout
Whilst ominous gusts of terror besiege,
Convincing the upends have come
Bellowing into disabled blue eyes,
Blurred and blinded through battles of time
The dark deep dread creeps in
Shards of memory scattered throughout
Thoughts cloud in withdrawal
A relinquishing storm of all form, all peril
Void as a dream, void of sanity
Shards of memory scattered throughout
I Still Miss You
When you find me sitting under my own shadow
under our tree
and it's raining but my face
was wet anyway,
all I can think of is you.
When I'm alone in my room because I'm afraid
someone will find me
and the sun won't come in,
all I can think of is you.
When I carry Death on my shoulder
and the whole world is ashes
and I only dream of Bliss,
all I can think of is you.
When the stars have all fallen
and the moon is as alone as I am
and the warmth of music is not a comfort,
all I can think of is you.
And the green of the grass,
the warmth of my blanket,
the Hope in the moon's eyes,
the playfulness of the breeze,
the shine of glitter,
the wisdom of words,
the innocent gentleness of a child's touch
reminds me of you
and yet they are not a comfort.
poem by Zoe Guillory
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In The Middle Of The Crowd
in the middle of the crowd
where there is so much noise
all mouths talking
with no one listening
all arms and hands
moving and shouting
and all feet walking to
and fro like grandfather's
clock's mechanical pendulum
when the world seems to be
crowded not just with people
but with words
dishonest words and other
things that we do not really mean
why not try the silence of the stars
outside this crowd
on the grass, soft, soft grass
with the wind, cool cool winds
why not try the silence of the stars
under the sky
why not spend a little time with
the moon
let us try silence for a while
who knows
this world may still have peace
who knows
our overbeating hearts may
find its needed rest
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Disembogued
The night fell asleep
Leaving the ancient ruins
And darkness surrounded
The sore mayhem around
Whilst inside this vault -
A vacuum
Where everything
Sank mordantly,
Unfettered from the tethers
Thriving to girdle
My bountiful unrealities
There was nothing left
Not a poet
Nor a poem
Even more alone
Than loneliness
Save the virulent strains
Of my reality:
Everything
Sinks
And the pilfered
Months of infinitude
Sank with rasping teeth
In this vault
Of white memories
With your goodbye
I am disembogued
Of whatever
Is left
poem by Norman Santos
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Music Of My Heart
MUSIC OF MY HEART
When we are together, there is music in my heart,
but there is only silence, whenever we're apart,
I would rather hear the music playing soft and low,
than hearing only silence everywhere I go,
keep the music playing, keep the sunshine in my life,
so I can dance forever with you as my wife,
there are times when music, is a gentle soft refrain,
just like an angry sky that brings a softly falling rain,
you fill my expectations, you fill all my needs,
my love for you keeps growing, just like sprouting seeds,
when I gaze upon your beauty, a drum beats in my heart,
then I hear the violins, softly playing their sweet part,
soon there is an opera, playing so devine,
all because of my love for you, oh sweet love of mine,
so walk up to my jukebox and put some money in,
you will hear the music, when my heart starts to spin,
it will play a love song, written about a love so true,
it will play forever, and it plays only for you.
written by Harry Bryant
10/29/2002 10: 23: 33?
all rights reserved
poem by Harry Bryant
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We Are Playing Together
the blue of the sky,
green, of grass,
colour of your eyes
beginning of the play
look darling, to the moon,
like it is smiling to us.
my defeat,
is for him, delight
we are playing 'in green'.
we have 'green'
we will give, for ourselves,
you for me, and I for you.
poem by Dagmara Anna AuraDagimar
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Mutual Agreement
i know that you are here
and you see me pondering upon each letter
folding spaces and
making sense out of nothing
perhaps
i will not disturb you with a
hi
i may oblige though
with a sigh
this is a mutual agreement of islands
there are no bridges in our separate silence
i like not to touch no one in the same manner
that i like none of you to touch
mine
we raise our hands to the sky
begging for more silence not for mercy
we have love
we have loved that much and were broken
but coping like
lizard's tails repairing the cuts
i am an island of light
i hole of silence
keep this medicine of distance
swallow the pill
to make us all well in this quest for
a peaceful independence
actually i like it this way now
i am not proceeding in any visible journey
my feet are not tied
neither my hands in chains
as i prefer sitting down on the sands
sipping what remains of
the fading light...
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Drums Of The Islands
(words & music by polynesian cultural centre - tepper - bennett)
Drums of the islands youre beating in my heart
Youre with me no matter where I roam
If ever I wander if ever were apart
I know that you will lead me home
If I should journey across the deep blue sea
Ill never forget these coral shores
Drums of the islands I hear you calling me
And Ill return forever yours
I love each valley each grain of sand each hill
The flowers the music of the isles
These are the things I love and always will
Though I may roam ten thousand miles
song performed by by Elvis Presley
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Stargazer Miss Me Not
Lying on the grass tonight
Gazing up at the stars
I remember when I was a child
The words you spoke to me
Whenever you are sad and lonely
Just look up at the moon
And I will look at it also
Then you will not be alone
Come dry your tears on the stars
And dance in the moon rays
And when the sun it starts to wake
You know you’re not alone,
So my darling miss me not
For I am wherever the moon is
And wherever the moon is
That’s where you are
and that’s where I’ll be too.
poem by Charlotte Murray
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the fireflies of Puerto P.
we take the boat at night
the sea is having its low tide
we are going to the place where the fireflies are mating
we trace the rivers like blood to our veins
the moon has not come at that hour
the trees along the banks are mere shadows
the fireflies are all there
glistening like stars in the heavens
there is so much silence
what we can hear is only the sound of the boat sliding on the river
i've seen for once the magic of their lights
and there i am but a mere shadow against the trees
the journey towards my childhood begins
where Papa trapped all of them inside a jar for us to marvel
how life gives light and how quick shall death take it.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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