What Today Brings
In the dawning of the day
With my coffee in hand and
My son at play
I glance at the neatly laid trees
Still after mornings breeze
What will my day be like
After rains jar my senses and
The lightning strikes
Calm laying down the puddles
And child climbing up to cuddle
Dishes washed brings hope
Same with an early stable routine
For me to cope
Steps begin with our usual waking
Java lightens chaos in the making
Still stands my question
What will the day have in store
During its session
Each turn keeps shifting forward
All the answers that I move toward
By Ruth L. Rivers
July 23,2009
poem by Ruth L. Rivers
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What is happening to me
I am floating in a sea of apprehension
With worry and doubt as stars above
No call is to lost to be echoed around
Thoughts are silent as the gravity tugs
I am skipping on stones of confusion
Avoiding the rapidly grabbing chaos
Just staying out of the mess of life
Making survival the ultimate pay off
I am silent to the world of chattering
In a forest of meaning, silence drowns
No interpretation can bring life near
Alone encircled by life I will be found
I am walking a familiarly strange path
With steps no longer firm as they take
Unsure of nearing objects and needs
Compelled to go on, even as I break
By Ruth L. Rivers
July 21,2009
poem by Ruth L. Rivers
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Java Blues
Rick danko
I walked into a diner
And the blonde behind the counter
She asked if she could help in any way
Hell, I knew by her smile
Her number I could dial
If I was in the need of company
But as I bought some java
Instead she brought me a cup of chicory
I got those java blues
Coffees got me
Java blues
Oh coffee, coffee, coffee
Java blues
Coffees got me
Java blues
Oh coffee
You know that Ill stay high
Ill drink coffee till I die
Dont pour me water just fill up my cup
You know it takes a lot just to keep me up
Cost may be more than you care to pay
What good is money compared to fightin pain
Dont try to cheat
Its impossible to beat
The only pick me up thats here to stay
I got those java blues
Coffees got me
Java blues
Oh coffee, coffee, coffee
Java blues
Oh coffee, oh coffee
Java blues
Coffees got me
You know that Ill stay high
Ill drink coffee till I die
The taste of java is like a cocaine rush
Nobodys gonna stop me from drinkin too much
Down in bolivia the people are insane
They want as much for coffee as they do for cocaine
Dont try to cheat
Its impossible to beat
The only pick me up thats here to stay
I got those java blues
Coffees got me
Java blues
Oh coffee, coffee, coffee
Java blues
The coffees got me now..
Java blues
Oh coffee, coffee
You know that Ill stay high
Ill drink coffee till I die
I got the java blues
Oh coffee, coffee
Java blues
Oh coffee, coffee, coffee
Java blues
Oh the coffees got me
Java blues
Oh coffee, oh coffee
Java blues!
song performed by by Nazareth
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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What Do You Do I Ask
(5/4/12)
What do you do when you feel all hope is gone
And hanging by a thread you linger on.
What do you do when you take three steps forward
And eight steps back, and in life you're always under attack.
What do you do when you have door after door
Slam in your face, and to hide - there is no place.
What do you do when your loved ones have lost faith in you
And you don't know what to do.
What do you do when you pray every day
And the answers don't come your way.
Is this really the time to give up hope
When all your life you learned to cope.
Your dreams don't come when you want
And may never come at all
And to the ground they may fall.
Your dreams may not be what GOD has intended
But in your life, your dreams may be ended.
There may be another path that he wants you to travel
And his answers will all unravel.
Your life is not lived just for yourself
You must touch everyone else.
We are surrounded by millions of people
And each life touching another
And giving hope to so many others.
We can not see what he has in store
But we live with faith as we open the new door.
The door may be something that we don't expect
And it will make our lives better yet.
So open the door and let that radiating light shine through
For this is the light and path that belongs to you.
poem by Louis Rams
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Spoon
Dave :
Spoon in spoon
Stirring my coffee
I thought of you
And turned to the gate
And on my way came
Up with the answers
I scratched my head
And the answers were gone
From hand to hand
Wrist to the elbow
Red blood sand
Could dad be god
Crosses cross hung
Out like a wet rag
Forgive you why
You hung me out to dry
Maybe Im crazy
But laughing out loud
Makes the pain pass by
And maybe youre a little crazy
But laughing out loud makes it all subside
Holding, Im holding
Im still falling
Im still falling
Spoon in spoon
Stirring my coffee
I thought of this
And turned to the gate
But on my way
Crack
Lightning and thunder
I hid my head
And the storm slipped away
Well maybe Im crazy
And laughing out loud
Makes it all pass by
And maybe youre a little crazy
And laughing out loud
Makes it all alright
Laughing out loud
Alanis :
From time to time
Minutes and hours
Some move ahead while
Some lag behind
Its like the balloon that
Rise and then vanish
This drop of hope
That falls from his eyes
Dave :
Spoon in spoon
Stirring my coffee
I think of this
And turn to go away
But as I walk
Therere voices behind me saying
Sinners sin
Come now and play
Laughing out loud
Come now and play
song performed by by Alanis Morissette
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Spoon
Spoon in spoon
Stirring my coffee
I think of you
And turn to the gate
But on my way
Came up with the answers
Scratched my head
And the answers were gone
From hand to hand
Wrists to the elbow
Red blood sand
Could dad be god
Crosses cross
Hung out like a wet rag
Forgive you why
You hung me out to dry
Maybe Im a little crazy
But laughing out loud
Makes it all pass by
Maybe youre a little crazy
But laughing out loud
Makes it all subside
Holding, Im holding
Falling, Im still falling
Spoon in spoon
Stirring my coffee
I think of this
And turn to the gate
But on my way
Crack lightening and thunder
Hid my head
And the storm slipped away
Maybe Im a little crazy
But laughing out loud
Makes it all pass by
Maybe youre a little crazy
But laughing out loud
Makes it all all right
Laughing out loud
(alanis)
From time to time
Minutes and hours
Some move ahead
While some lag behind
Like the baloon that rise
And then vanish
This drop of hope
That falls from his eye
(dave)
Spoon in spoon
Stirring my coffee
I think of this
And turn to go away
But as I walk
The voices behind me say
Sinners sin
Come now and play
Laughing out loud
Come now and play.
song performed by by Dave Matthews Band
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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My childhood
When I peep into my past
I remember my childhood
The carefree, wonderful world of my life
Nothing to bother, nothing to think
Lot of fun, lot of play
When wrong I did, said sorry to mamma
Don’t do it again was mamma’s answer
My legs ached after lot of play
Mamma would massage them at the end of the day
Who washed my clothes?
What to wear I never thought
Lot of friends
Hindu or Muslim was never the question
Climbing on the trees
Catching butterflies was the favourite pastime
Wanted everyday to be a Sunday
Getting up early I never liked
Sleeping late in the morning was my desire
How papa earns was never my concern
Brothers and sisters all loved me
I was the youngest in the family
I pray to god take the money and all the worries
And give me back my child hood
poem by Nirantar Dr.Rajendra Tela
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Hour Glass
I sit and stare
Watching as every grain falls away
I sit and stare
Asking what's there to life with every falling grain
I sit and stare
Asking what secrets lie within these sands of time
I sit, but this time I wonder
if the next falling grain brings hope to life
Clock's ticking, I sit back to relax
Sands falling, I clear my mind to hear my heart
Every minute passes me by, it's a moment to ponder
Reflections on my actions, the consequences that will seek to haunt me
But what good is this if I sit here another day
Ephemera it may be but life wasted if I regret my steps
watching as life ticks and trickles away from the grasp of man
I wish to see another day
So I sit and ask
if the next falling grain brings hope to life
I take a moment to sigh, so let my breath whisper my weakness
Tired from the daily routine of life
A hopeless endeavor lived for self
Ambition they say but what good is it if led by greed
if primary becomes secondary and secondary becomes primary
roofing replaces foundation and pillars become ruins
because surely chaos will pay you a visit
hence I know not a building of such design that stands the test of life
so I'll sit and ask
if the next falling grain brings hope to life
I'v been sitting in this chair for far too long
Least to say, my mind feels a little bit too far gone
Seeking for answers before the end of time
For when time ends judgment awaits
Will memories be our tombstones or will they be our well built thrones we'll one day sit on
Seek ye first what lies in the kingdom above
Let the gifts be secondary , let foundation be the basis
So u may sit and know
That the next falling grain brings hope to life
poem by Sir T.A.E.P.S
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Harmless Gossip
An avenue of stately trees
whose branches meet high overhead
exchanging gossip with the breeze.
This is the way that rumours spread.
When lovers stroll beneath the moon.
The trees observe their every move.
They dance to day to the same tune
their forbears danced to when in love.
Though fashions change, some things do not.
The trees have seen it all before.
All that they’ve seen is not forgot
but added the their growing store
of gossip which the trees then share
with every passing breeze that blows.
The trees will spread it everywhere
to all and sundry I suppose.
Be very careful what you do.
Although no one can see.
Know that the trees are watching you
and they will share quite happily.
Everything that they have seen
with any breeze that happens by.
With consequences unforeseen
By trees and breeze or you and I.
When strolling in a moon lit glade
Beware the moons soft silver rays.
That stir the blood of man and maid
to think this is the time and place.
19/09/2009
http: // blog.myspace.com/poeticpiers
poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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A Little Teacher
At times a little teacher stands before me
With a smiling face.
And her sweet mouth speaks
Things I have never heard.
A cute girl of early teens,
A teacher of principles self imposed.
In her class I am the lone pupil
And she teaches me ever.
The chambers of my recollections past
Cry for a change perhaps,
My old teachers fade into oblivion
As my new teacher waits to steal in.
My learning is her choice
Though the subjects taught are none new.
No notes, no admonishing and no comparisons!
I begin to learn the mind of a growing child.
There arises only one question-
How long will she teach like this?
As she makes steps forward unto her tomorrows
I shall cease to be her pupil.
My steps are made as well
As the tomorrows won`t leave me alone.
Somewhere I may stand stranded with feeble feet
And the gale of ailments may begin to cross my frame.
Then I shall remember the lessons taught by you
My little teacher, my philosopher once
And I shall hold on to your kind love and care
Oh! My dear daughter, let us stop for now.
poem by M.d Dinesh Nair
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Unmarked Impressions
Heavy downpour
On that full moon night
Huddled together.
When I stretched out
Beaming moon
Shortened shadows
Gentle breeze
Lightning strikes
Thunder bellows
And more it pours.
Washed with water
Branches sparkle
Pebbles in the stream
Gems indeed.
Shadows swing
Stable ones
Provide the ring
And the drops which fall
Leave an impression
Un marked.
poem by Sanjay Mehta
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My Number One Christmas
What I want for Christmas is something you can not see,
It’s the love of a special lady who means the world to me
Waking up on Christmas day with you laying next to me,
This is my ideal Christmas it would seem just like a fantasy
At Christmas time we give presents, eat and drink which is grand,
But the only thing I want is for you to hold my hand
Pulling crackers, telling jokes and family games are fun,
Having you by my side would make this my Christmas number one
Watching telly in the afternoon of repeated films from the past,
Cuddling up to you on the sofa is all that I ask
Waving goodbye to all the family at the end of a long day,
Knowing its now just me and you to tidy up, clean the dishes and put them away
Another Christmas over its now all part of the past,
It’s still my favourite Christmas although long it didn’t last
Turning off the lights and going up to bed
Giggling about the silly things we done and I probably said
As we cuddle up under the covers I watch you drift off to sleep,
I wonder why can’t this moment last for at least a week
As I cuddle up to you and slowly close my eyes,
I think this is my best Christmas ever because it’s with you and that’s something I can’t deny.
poem by Elusive Conclusive
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Another Set of Lovers Under The Moon
the usual things we did
surely we will miss but we cannot
settle for less
and you know it and so we create and
recreate other usual moments
something new to the hold
of our hands
evenings that tempt the stars
mornings that
entice the thighs
we cannot sip coffee together
just us and
us
we will miss the unknown too
those that we like to
know
there is this pain in
anticipation
this letting go of the
old and
embracing the new
questions that
never quench our
quest for answers
and so
if you have decided to leave me
i may not be bothered at
all
for in another junction
another shadow is waiting
and the moon
spreads its golden mantle
for us
to be lunatics
again
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Waking dream
Ooh waking dream ooh waking dream
That causes all my agony
I heave with anguish meshed with misery
For your departure like the rapture
Has taken any hope for a blissful eternity
Ooh waking dream ooh waking dream
Pawn has made its move to take the queen
A lonely king to make seven moves
To escape with pride and not to loose
Waking dream that fades away
Like a beautiful sunset that ends a day
Usher darkness into my life
With madness is how I cope at nights
Hide any weakness in murkiness
Having every answer and still I guess
Ooh waking dream ooh waking dream
Your a reflection of a dying memory
poem by Raymond Valadez
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As Usual
The sun was shining…
The breeze was blowing
As usual
The day was dawning
The dusk was falling…
As usual
The people were brisking
The people were frisking
As usual
You died.
My heart was grieving.
It was Durga Puja.
They were celebrating
As usual
(Dedicated to Steve Jobs. I miss him…)
poem by Aparna Chatterjee
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Session Man
He never will forget at all
The day he played at the albert hall.
A million sessions ago it seems.
He is a session man,
A chord progression,
A top musician.
Rock n roll or vocal star[? ],
A philharmonic orchestra,
Everything comes the same to him.
He is a session man,
A chord progression,
A top musician.
Hes not paid to think, just play,
A session man
A session man
A session man
Playing at a different studio every day.
He reads the dots and plays each line,
And always finishes on time.
No overtime nor favors done.
He is a session man,
A chord progression,
A top musician.
Hes not paid to think, just play,
A session man
A session man
A session man
song performed by by Kinks
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The footprints in my heart
My heart looks like a beach
After a long summers day
Absolute chaos
A whole life of people
Or just a day of chaos
When my heart
was just like a beach
early morning
just as the sun came up
washed clean of all that came before
not a print
unblemished by peoples disregard
for it is clean of all chaos
then I let the first person in
who walked a long trail
lonely path cut into fresh sand
serenity has come beauty
the first footprint
interrupted by a calm wave
sweeping to interrupt the first sign
of someone walking on my heart
then as the time drags on the beauty changed
more people than just one
disrupting my clean beach
walking, jumping, lying on my beach
the beauty changed to chaos
but for one thing
the footprint of love
of care that the beauty should not be touched
then hurt of the careless one
leaving their dirt behind
muddy footprints of a careless child
a conceited adult
so during the erosion of my beach
day in day out
night for night
cleaning and sweeping
but for those
careless footprints
of the one who used the beach
with no care
for what damage they do
they destroyed
the beautiful beach
the beautiful heart
so the question is
will with time
this beach
heal and find its beauty again
will the footprints of the new day
come back and make
the heart forget
those days of chaos
I wait for the one person
Early one morning
To make new footprint
Not one set, but two
One for me and one for her
New footprints on my heart
A Morning Greeting
good morning, my friend
hope you're fine like the smooth morning rays of the sun
on soft hands caressing the shiny brown skin of my face
did you sleep well last night? let me ask if you have dreams
that make waking up a regretful event
i am out now for my usual walk to see the usual rising of the sun
on the golden ricefields on the road leading to a group of nipa huts
i am asking myself today: is there meaning to this usualness
this routine that comes to us without any break?
is there something new to the sun that we always expect to shine?
is there a twist to the usual chirps of birds, the usual white color of their wings? is there something better to do than walk and think the usual
thoughts of how to make a living and be the fit person to survive
this war on boredome
this struggle for meaning
this monotonous routine of this and that and this and that and this and that and this and that and this and that this and that and this and that and this and that and this and that and this and that this and that and this and that and this and that and this and that and this and that this and that and this and that and this and that and this and that and this and that this and that and this and that and this and that and this and that and this and that this and that and this and that and this and that and this and that and this and that this and that and this and that and this and that and this and that and this and that this and that and this and that and this and that and this and that and this and that
there is no stuttering here, nothing symptomatic of sickness
and even death, there is this boredom again that will make us
not sleep the nights
and make us uneasy and restless and asking some more
what is this life? what is it giving me?
what am i giving it? how long?
just asking, i am returning to the house from this short walk
there is no music in my ears
more questions popping
i will just take tea
i need really to pee.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Early Morning Beauty :)
As I sit here all alone admiring the view of an early sunrise
I tilt my head back and close my eyes.
A soft gentle breeze crosses my face
I look around and enjoy the quietness of God's peace and the soft gentle pace
The trees are in full bloom, the leaves ready to fall
God's beauty of earth, I admire it all.
As the sun comes up and begins a new day
I sit here quietly and begin to pray.
Dear God, I begin to say, please watch over my life and keep me safe
Give me hope and show me faith.
Guide my path and let me know you are near.
Allow me to be strong and filled with love, for love conquers all fear.
A gentle breeze crosses my path, and gives me a slight chill
God answers and says: I am with you still.
I've never left you alone, or threw you aside, I am in your heart, I will be your guide.
I will show you the way to master life's difficulties, and trust your heart,
For I am with you now and forever, I shall never part.
A gentle breeze I feel again, I know my prayers are answered, God has heard my plea.
He has pointed this out for me to see.
Life has many surprises each and every day. We cannot live on regrets and sorrow.
Once again I feel a gentle breeze which means God is saying:
My child there is a tomorrow:
The sun will shine once again, the birds will continue to sing.
Memories will last forever, and enjoy life a new today, and all that it may bring.
poem by Jordan Moore
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Just Thoughts Early Morning
it is another morning
in the cancer of the tropics
the chickens jump from
the trees where they roost
for the night
the cocks faithfully crow
you can hear the cackling
as sounds of the day
later the motorcycles
ramble their engines on the
roads
of this small village
where i live
people dress themselves
for work
children go to school
with their colored bags
and tiny shoes
days are always usual
faithful to their routine
like a clockwork
like a machine
who wants to change it
and create a confusion?
no one dares
even death
takes a pattern
and so the days keep grinding
us with boredom
unless a terrorist comes with
a new bomb
shakes the world
and cause it more shock
so that new questions come
demanding for
more innovative solutions
who likes it that way?
no one.
we are like old rivers
old water taking the same path
to that same ancient sea
when we arrive there
there is no greeting
no welcome at all
just the usual fusion of
anonymity
and exhaustion and
the unburdening of that
load
some prepare for the big storm
and that is
something new
to entertain
this poem begs for meaning
again that is
a routine.
you ask it too
and it does not make any difference at all
you are as ancient in your question
as the snake in that myth
about Eden.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Lightning Strikes The Postman
I got yer letter it had turned to sand, lighting strikes the postman in
His hand, I hope that you remember the things you had to say, its just
A supernatural delay... I got yer package it was all a mess, lightning strikes
The postman in his chest, I hope that you remember the things you
Had to
Say, its just a supernatural delay...
I sent you a postcard and I hope yer fine
But lightning strike the postman all the time
I couldnt really think of anything to say
Its just a supernatural delay,
And its hard to read the writing through the flames...
song performed by by Flaming Lips
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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