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Poems By Poet RIC S. BASTASA  11/23/2014 1:40:33 PM
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  RIC S. BASTASA
 
 
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  5597.     

DROOL, ETCETERA....

when you wake up this morning you rush yourself
on the usual
many things to do
but never completely done
but just the same
you keep on doing it
like opening windows, closing doors,
mopping floors, washing underwear,
brushing teeth,
etcetera
now you are working
the table offers you the menu for the stress of the day
you count them
and start at
the first file,
etcetera the clock even if you do not mind it
keeps on ticking,
nothing unusual really,
you keep on thinking and writing notes and then
making conclusions
affecting the life of other people
they become simply case numbers
and usual names,
nothing extraordinary really
etcetera
you stop, make some sighs, breathe,
stand, sit, lay your head on the sofa,
and think,
etcetera
this world is black and white,
there are no more rainbows, the rains are cats and dogs
the little shower is gone,
the slowness of beauty is murdered,
the strip teasing of something that your mind coddles
and fondles
takes time,
the unfolding of the flower is choked,
the buds are nipped,
births are scraped,
off,
and on,
push and pull,
that is the language i learn from you,
etcetera,

etcetera
i did not invent it,
we say it when we do not know
what follows next

etcetera
life.
 
RIC S. BASTASA
   
 

   
   
 

  5598.     

dropping a hello

i will dropp my hello
like a feather
gently to a little space
where you
are thinking like a
very clear pond

such a hello looks
like a geese
floating on water

and then
it leaves

but i hope that its departure
be like
a word that leaves your lips
like a whisper

life should be like that
nothing shattering like a broken
wine glass dropped
by a drunkard at the bar

everyone is looking.
who cares?
 
RIC S. BASTASA
   
 

   
   
 

  5599.     

dropping by your house this morning

i dropped by your house this very early morning
the windows are closed
but the door is half-open
and i could have given in to this little curiosity
that cats keep on their paws
and soft feet
or hands if you may

but i didn't. there is something in the houe
that says
you had a bad day and that night you did not have
a sound sleep

the roses are wilting and a flower pot falls on the ground
broken
the soil splashed like spilled water on the grass

there is no sound of the wind
from the storm last night

i just dropped by. I respect you. The door of the house
finally closed
i did not see the hands that closed it.
it maybe yours
or someone else's

the rug has spoken. You want to be alone.
to keep the faint light left
in that little room. the curtains fall. the lights
went off on that very early morning.
 
RIC S. BASTASA
   
 

   
   
 

  5600.     

drops of pearl

you wish upon a stiffness
i still have it
you open the secret of
Pink and with
your gaze you hold
what i have for you
Strength of
One Long Pillar
Samson strong
The length mashed in
You are
the Lucky Creek
where i Drop
some Pearls.
 
RIC S. BASTASA
   
 
 
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Poems By Poet RIC S. BASTASA