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Poems By Poet RIC S. BASTASA  7/13/2014 5:05:45 PM
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  RIC S. BASTASA
 
 
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  5597.     

for the buds that bloom

for the buds that bloom
thank you
for the flowers that show the
biggest petals and the sweetest scent
thank you
for those that keep on holding the dew
thank you
and for those who enjoy even the slightest moment
of my appreciation and praise
all for the glory of God
even for the slightest moment
and then wilt and die
in an instant
like the click of the hand
or the ticking of the clock for a second or two
thank you

i have learned a lot. i have opened. i have kept the answers. i am ready
for the next question that God may ask of me.
even for the shortest moment of my life.
thank you.
 
RIC S. BASTASA
   
 

   
   
 

  5598.     

for the conceited woman...

often your talk
boils down to how attractive you are
or have been

and i just keep on listening
i think i must give you the challenge of shane:

walk down the road
have a hundred dollar bill in your hand
make a man choose: sex with you or the hundred dollar bill.

it's fine with me: i'll give you a hundred more.
 
RIC S. BASTASA
   
 

   
   
 

  5599.     

for the critics who believe they are better poets...

DO NOT dissect the frog
of Basho
it cannot sing in the rain
and there will
be no more splashes
 
RIC S. BASTASA
   
 

   
   
 

  5600.     

For The Cruel Woman

WE SIMPLY have to be honest,
do we have any choice? what do you have there?
a thick section of your
humiliation,

she keeps on putting you down
and she laughs
openly like you were the performer
with all the rotten tomatoes
as her score

what do i have here inside my pocket?

i have my fingers that keep a record
of her wrongs
and i am still writing

she is sick and dying and we wear sad faces
we are dishonest
she is saying the last words
in slow motion

and stretching her breaths
like a staccato of a song

we are the silent background
the floor of her bed
the drapes of her window
the slippers of her stinking feet

and finally

she is dead and we cry and then we wail loud enough
to be heard by the neighbors
and the servants of the house are convinced

we go through the rites of her passage
we are her heirs and our names shall not be forgotten by her
in the other world
where she watches us from the skies
with all surprise and regret

we are dancing on the grass
we are feasting in our house.
 
RIC S. BASTASA
   
 
 
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Poems By Poet RIC S. BASTASA