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Poems By Poet RIC S. BASTASA  7/4/2015 3:44:47 PM
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  RIC S. BASTASA
 
 
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  8397.     

I, In The Mirror

i know
you fully
well
we speak
to each
other
without
the use
of a voice

what happens
is that
i have underestimated
you
and i have
miscalculated
what you
can become

i do nothing
but sleep
and death creeps
in
in my hair
liking
it

but i
will not
just stop
there
i know you
fully well
and tonight
as i write
this
i face
what i am
i comb
my
hair and assure
myself
that everything
is well
and that if
someone asks
me
i know
what i must
answer....
 
RIC S. BASTASA
   
 

   
   
 

  8398.     

I, Too Have A Harsh Voice

if you only see me
you will see the difference
and if you hear me
you too will know
what a harsh voice can be

for it is the voice of
my own wilderness
the sounds of young elephants
looking for their mothers
the sound of birds looking
for a home
for mine is the sound of the
whale looking for a
place to die.
 
RIC S. BASTASA
   
 

   
   
 

  8399.     

I, Too,

i, too, like
something to
be crisp and
little,
something
small and
beautiful
even if not
original, something
to call mine, something
to return after a time,
i, too, am, a borrower,
and borrowed at the
same time
i, too, like to pick up
a stone
along the shore
and throw it
back to the deeper
part of the sea,
i never like something
that i do not
own, and can never
own,
i give it back, and then
go my way.
 
RIC S. BASTASA
   
 

   
   
 

  8400.     

I, Too, Do Not Want Any Friends For Money

what are friends for?

we meet again
this time, we wear a different kind of hair
mostly grey and lesser in number
balding head, and bluer lips, and
sunken sockets and bony cheeks
ears seem wider and longer
neck a little bit lower
stooping shoulders
and clumsy hands and a memory
that find it hard to name names
and places

we meet again at the ticketing office
of this port
this boat that will take us home
tonight
it is your back facing me
as you are talking to the clerk
homebound
you are homebound
on little packs

i still recognize your voice
but i have doubts
you are that harsh now
impatient and so demanding
it is my turn
and you face me
your eyes are still the same
now turning so friendly

my friend it is you
how are doing?

we hug, we cry,
we shake hands
we speak about the university
we look forward to be back
home to our past

this is what are friends for,
we do not speak about money
we do not have any.....
 
RIC S. BASTASA
   
 
 
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Poems By Poet RIC S. BASTASA