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Poems By Poet RIC S. BASTASA  7/10/2014 11:06:57 AM
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  RIC S. BASTASA
 
 
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  7197.     

it is over

it is over and there will be closing statements
do not tell me about some cliches
that i have improved in the exchange
of mutualities, that i have satisfied every quiver of your
clit, that i have become an expert of long distance
love, that i know what prolongation means,
you seem to imply that i am not responsible
for the movement of my thighs and legs
that i do not know how to breathe
to the ryththm of a love poem
its beat and intensity
that i must claim that you are forced into such a sweet
submission
you do a lot of talking
i snore.

it is over. Be the best magician.
Vanish yourself.

it is over now. I had enough of enough.
i am dead.
 
RIC S. BASTASA
   
 

   
   
 

  7198.     

it is over, and we made a fine start....

they have done it
discreetly and well,

they begin by traveling in
separate directions

one goes to manila
the other go to Jolo

as one arrives on a
Wednesday
the other leaves on
a Thursday

the hours are hectic
they do not meet at a common hand

that is a start
sort of a practice that soon shall make perfect

they do not sleep in the same bed
for so many reasons

a hundred two hundred
jingling of keys

soon it will be easy and
soon it will be as painless as


we know it
we know how to do it now

we are on the same frame of mind
it is over.
 
RIC S. BASTASA
   
 

   
   
 

  7199.     

it is over, part two

after the arms entwined
like tendrils of
a very resilient vine
the door closes
like a sunset
filled with warm colors
of red and orange
and hard yellow egg yolk
and then fading
like a whisper
in my ear
that hears a word
bye

honey
see you later,

and then we say
such a short bursting moment
in the most private silence

(of our concealed existence
like a love letter
written a long long time ago)

is over and when we walk away
our separate paths
i to the north and you
to the south
we keep assuring our dream
weaver
that since we like this place
with you
then we must work for a rebirth

a tryst

somewhere though we
do not know
exactly when....
 
RIC S. BASTASA
   
 

   
   
 

  7200.     

it is over...

when the journey
is reached

having passed
many times the same river

when the feet no longer
feels weariness

when the soul rests
upon no thought

then you stop
writing

because everything is so perfect
and no word
no word can ever justify what

it is.
 
RIC S. BASTASA
   
 
 
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Poems By Poet RIC S. BASTASA