'On this stone we mourn his loss.
He's at peace beneath this moss.
and don't be worried
because he's buried
six down and three across'
quote by by Chuck Audette
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The moss that loves the stone
It is the moss that loves the stone
Most. No matter what or when, the
Moss somehow manages to stay
Even without a why, they say.
But the moss keeps on sticking
To the body of the stone that
Keeps its nonminding stiffness.
It is cold, it is hard, it is unfeeling
At all. It is the moss that keeps its
Love. It sticks with it, rain or shine.
It rolls with it. It stays with it even
In the desert, even it if means its
Own death. It is the moss that sticks
To the stone. It is its true lover.
In the river, the water has ordered
The moss to leave. It ordered the stone
To crush it. The moss cannot be
Removed. It covered the stone.
It is loving it whole.The stone has
Become the moss, and the stone
Is gone.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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To Gather Moss And More Of Moss
to gather moss
be a stone
to gather more moss
be a very still stone
be a stone still till the end
of time
you stand still and think
you want to be the moss
rather than a stone
to be all moss
you must betray the stillness
of stone
you must even forget
the importance of
what a moss can be
then you think some more
to be completely this moss
you need to be friendly
to the water and to the river
then you decide to be the water
instead of the moss
to be more than the water
you wish instead to become the river
and so you flow and learn the rush
and become the running river
until what you want really
is just to flow
to rush and run and then
you become nothing
but the motion itself
until you are lost
and then
you become what you are now
lost but real
always flowing, rushing, running
where nobody owns you
not even the river
or the stones or the moss
you have become
this running, this flowing, this being
so real so free
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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We Are Worried
We are worried
Our once prosperous land
Is now a beggar
We are worried
Our incandescent light
Is now blurred
We are worried
Love no longer co-habits
On our wide streets
We are worried
That brothers slaughter brothers
All in the name of God
We are worried
How vultures prey
On our commonwealth
We are worried
The gap gets wider
Between the rich and the poor
We are worried
About our youths
Whose destinies are bleak.
We are worried
That the ship may sink
Like the titanic.
We are worried
We do not know who to trust
We are worried of many things
poem by Babatunde Aremu
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Life And Death On The Stone In The Pond
on that rainy month
a stone was so kind
enough
to let the green moss
wrap its
solid body
there was
mutual bliss in
their
company
then the drought
comes in months
the river where the stone
lives
dried and
mud turned to
cracked
surfaces
the moss knows
that this happens
every year
dies peacefully
around the solid body
of the stone
like sleep waiting
for the next rain
the stone is
undisturbed
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Possessions dwindle: I mourn their loss. But I mourn the loss of time much more, for anyone can save his purse, but none can win back lost time.
Sense of loss
About you I think
Then could not blink
I gaze in the skies
With wandering eyes
Those feelings of love
Why kept I above
I think about the days
Falling of the rays
When do we play
On the ocean’s bay
I sob for the days
Sob for the past
That could not last
Left me all alone
To groan and mourn
The loss of emotions
I mourn and bemoan
Love’s sojourn
I swear of my soul
I can not condole
Loss of sense
Sense of loss
poem by Akram Saqib
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Reflection 0.2
when you arrive here
there is no stone not a single stone
there is no moss not a single hair of a green moss
then there was the pain of waiting
time is always delaying its coming
trains stopped and cars are having flat tires
but you are faithful you keep on waiting you entertain promises
like dear memories or dreams or wishes that come true somehow
and you waited for so long
now this place is filled with stones and moss grow in each body of the stone
the waters spread their territories and land is emaciated
and the house is covered with water and the roof is gone
and there is nobody here anymore and it is only i who remember you and
i tell them about you and they do not believe me
and i feel like i am a ship that just sunk.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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The Peace Activists Grave
The one who loved peace she was buried today
And peace it surrounds her now where she does lay
But a bugler for her the last post did not play
No heroes for peace or it would seem that way.
Though in her honour there never will be a parade
To speak against war she was never afraid
And though patriots did not like what she had to say
For her views such a price she was prepared to pay.
She was a peace activist until her end
And to those who loved peace she was always a friend
Her motto was the one without sin cast the stone
And war was one thing she could never condone.
Though she was one who was quite honourable and brave
No National flag at the peace activists grave
She first saw light of day in nineteen thirty four
And may she now rest in peace forever more.
poem by Francis Duggan
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Content
PEACE, peace ! I know 'twas brave ;
But this coarse fleece,
I shelter in, is slave
To no such piece.
When I am gone,
I shall no wardrobes leave
To friend, or son,
But what their own homes weave.
2.
Such, though not proud nor full,
May make them weep,
And mourn to see the wool
Outlast the sheep :
Poor, pious wear !
Hadst thou been rich, or fine,
Perhaps that tear
Had mourn'd thy loss, not mine.
3.
Why then these curl'd, puff'd points,
Or a laced story ?
Death sets all out of joint,
And scorns their glory.
Some love a rose
In hand, some in the skin ;
But, cross to those,
I would have mine within.
poem by Henry Vaughan
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If Looks Could Kill
What d'you want?
You've got nothing to say
and you can't
hide that look of dismay
Why pretend?
You only want revenge
It's been said
I'd be dead
If looks could kill
Where'd you go
with that threadbare crowd
still in tow?
Do they appreciate your
tales of woe?
Droning on and on
Lost your thread?
I'd be dead
If looks could kill
You think you're acting
in self-defence
but you're fooling no one
and you never will
The only crime is irrelevance
No wonder you're worried
I'd be dead and buried still
If looks could kill
Welcome to a unique event
where we see what you represent
Flaunt that look
of 'Let battle commence!'
It changes nothing
and it never will
And on that matter of self-defence
I'm not worried
I'd be dead and buried still
If looks could kill
If looks could kill
song performed by by Pet Shop Boys
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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That Jesus' Baby
'you know...
they buried that
Jesus' baby,
you know...
the one they found
in the dumpster,
down in the church cemetary
neath an unmarked stone...
the only ones
who came to mourn,
were three crows,
and two mongrel dogs...
the last prayer,
the falling rain! '
poem by Eric Cockrell
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Travel and society polish one, but a rolling stone gathers no moss, and a little moss is a good thing on a man.
quote by John Burroughs
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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963: Peace n happiness wish...
Love is so beautiful,
In love there is loss,
Life is still beautiful,
Do not cause loss,
If it occurs to you,
Just accept it.
None causes loss,
It just happens,
Forgive those,
Who appear to have,
Caused loss to you,
Forgiveness is noble.
Let her be happy,
And at peace,
If she could not,
She would have a reason,
Let god take care of her,
Wish her happiness and peace.
poem by Amit Biswas
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A Loss of Inner Peace.
A loss of inner peace,
as i hear the words come out,
A loss of words,
As i try to speak of it,
A loss of a love,
a love too great to convey,
But with this loss of inner peace,
I find an understanding of life.
In loving memory of
Marguerite G. Ko
U.S.M.C Marine
1961-2003
Loss of Time
A forgotten time
A forgotten society
A forgotten land
A forgotten people
A time of peace
A time of war
A time of grieving
A time of celebration
A time of loss
A loss of knowledge
A loss of dignity
A loss of loved ones
A loss of sanity
A loss of peace
A beginning of a new time
A beginning of new life
A beginning of new knowledge
A beginning of new peace
A beginning of new war
Its all a cycle
From a new beginning
To loss
To a time of difference
Till it is all forgotten
And a new beginning is forged.
poem by Ankoku Gekido
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At 4: 25 In The Morning, About True Love
you are curious about true love
and let me tell you about my love for her
twas true, yes it was,
too much moss in the stone
the river wants to
remove all the green in there
sad to say
it failed.
the stone is still strong.
and the moss too green to die.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Tarrant Moss
I closed and drew for my love's sake
That now is false to me,
And I slew the Reiver of Tarrant Moss
And set Dumeny free.
They have gone down, they have gone down,
They are standing all arow -
Twenty knights in the peat-water,
That never struck a blow!
Their armour shall not dull nor rust,
Their flesh shall not decay,
For Tarrant Moss holds them in trust,
Until the Judgment Day.
Their soul went from them in their youth,
Ah God, that mine had gone,
Whenas I leaned on my love's truth
And not on my sword alone!
Whenas I leaned on lad's belief
And not on my naked blade -
And I slew a thief, and an honest thief,
For the sake of a worthless maid.
They have laid the Reiver low in his place,
They have set me up on high,
But the twenty knights in the peat-water
Are luckier than I!
And ever they give me gold and praise
And ever I mourn my loss -
For I struck the blow for my false love's sake
And not for the Men of the Moss!
poem by Rudyard Kipling
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Tenderness
Words & music by paul simon
What can I do
What can I do
Much of what you say is true
I know you see through me
But theres no tenderness
Beneath your honesty
Oh, right and wrong
Right and wrong
Ooh, never helped us get along
You say you care for me
But theres no tenderness
Beneath your honesty
You and me were such good friends
Whats your hurry?
You and me could make amends
Im not worried
Im not worried
Oh, honesty,
Oh, honesty
Ooh, its such a waste of energy
No you dont have to lie to me
Just give me some tenderness
Beneath your honesty
You dont have to lie to me
Just give me some tenderness
song performed by by Paul Simon
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Requiescat
Under the stone you behold,
Buried, and coffined, and cold,
Lieth Sir Wilfrid the Bold.
Always he marched in advance,
Warring in Flanders and France,
Doughty with sword and with lance.
Famous in Saracen fight,
Rode in his youth the good knight,
Scattering Paynims in flight.
Brian the Templar untrue,
Fairly in tourney he slew,
Saw Hierusalem too.
Now he is buried and gone,
Lying beneath the gray stone:
Where shall you find such a one?
Long time his widow deplored,
Weeping the fate of her lord,
Sadly cut off by the sword.
When she was eased of her pain,
Came the good Lord Athelstane,
When her ladyship married again.
poem by William Makepeace Thackeray
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But God
she is worried
about what is happening to me
the silence and the stare
the long walks seem not to help
the loss of appetite for life
the one that forgets the sweet taste of water
the softness of rain
at night
to all the queries
there will be no answer
God is like that
He is silence and why do we not have to worry about Him?
His silence for all those eons and eons
Did you see his hands? Did you triumph on doubts?
Do you ever remember his last appearance?
when was that?
she is worried because i am asking for specifics now
she is worried because God is Love
and all my love is gone
including what i once revealed to her
that first time
when we were so young and so gullible
about
the magic of creation
we are all dumb.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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