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Poems By Poet RIC S. BASTASA  10/2/2014 3:23:40 AM
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  RIC S. BASTASA
 
 
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  7597.     

i watch the sun setting on top of dark trees

i watch the sun set on top of dark trees
light fading
surrendering to complete darkness

i look at it with sadness
i imagine it is like my life
fading light
completely surrendering
letting the darkness in
everything vanishing
slowly gracefully

indeed, it is so sad
and so beautiful
 
RIC S. BASTASA
   
 

   
   
 

  7598.     

i welcome the rain that comes in the month of august

equate the month of august with agony, it simply sounds like that
does not jibe well with sorrow or sadness, sounds too underestimating
and it goes well with the rain that comes surprisingly today
on this hot month, on this arid soil, on this acrid atmosphere

between us, this silence, inside us the rambling thoughts of
alienation, around us is the smell of spices of separation those that
when sliced like onions when peeled by our trembling fingers make us cry,

out there our eyes look at different directions and our hands are taking
the forms of mutual dislike like some roots spreading down the deep recesses
of this earth, preferring to be anonymous in this undescribable boredom

i like the rain, the sound of dripping, the slowness of life, dripping from my
hands like raindrops, like things gradually wasting themselves reaching my
toes, numb to my nails, wanting to be buried to the ground and simply

be forgotten
 
RIC S. BASTASA
   
 

   
   
 

  7599.     

i went to a fiesta today

it is the feast of San Vicente today,
and all those places named after this saint
took turns in butchering their chickens and pigs
as offering to the powerful miracles of this saint.

some played their gongs to remind
them of the rhythm of love and action
because this saint taught and
showed that God has the power
to cure the sick and liberate
the minds of those who are in prison.

i went to the house of this woman who once
was mad. She confessed her sins of commission
and omission.
She once kicked her husband and
left him.

Now she is serving us food and stays beside her husband.
She smiles. She remembers everything.
Once she once was in deep depression and she prayed a lot
at the chapel of San Vicente.
Light shone upon her forehead.
There was a dove. There was fire. There was a voice.

And surely enough she went home
whole and cured.

Hence, this feast, this thanksgiving, she said.
 
RIC S. BASTASA
   
 

   
   
 

  7600.     

i went to church today

i went to church today
and as it is customary
at dawn
a sacrifice so to say
for advent's sake

i join in the singing of
the hymns
i sit and stand and kneel
i recite my prayers
on paper
i look at the pulpit
and listen to the
priest saying the homily
i sit and stand and kneel

i look around the corners
i follow the lines of the pillars
i look at the center of this
church majestic in its
art and architecture
i look at the corners
and at the seats filled with
my own people

i was looking for the face
of God
his shadow even
is not there anymore.
 
RIC S. BASTASA
   
 
 
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Poems By Poet RIC S. BASTASA