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Poems By Poet RIC S. BASTASA  8/20/2014 9:21:48 PM
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  RIC S. BASTASA
 
 
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  9197.     

Notes On The Virgin Island

the island is a virgin.
he explains.
corals in pink pieces
are still untrodden by
any foot, though scattered
everywhere and
appears like a burning sand
from far away

a boat begins to slip
on the shore
opening it for more
spectators like us
on bare feet

the island is no longer a virgin.

a hat is blown by the wind and stays on the grass
a hand cannot reach it

a boy urinated upon the cracks of the rock
a crab drinks drops of salt

a tree there sheds off some leaves
and stays upon its feet
wilting

it is very hot and the women huddle
upon a nipa hut
while the men watch with their
tongue wet with saliva

when the night falls
a fire is built

the night is so cold
some shadows dance
but only for a while

the silence is lovely
no one wants to sleep
 
RIC S. BASTASA
   
 

   
   
 

  9198.     

nOTHING

around his eyes
shades of black
when it looks at
you it is looking at
nothing
there is no sign of
life in the iris
there is only the stillness
of solitude
there is no whirlpool
of happiness
nothing is taken
nothing is given
there is doubt around each eye
there is that state of
unsatisfied hunger
despite the mountains of food
and lakes of drinks
there is this hunger for hunger itself
a longing eternal
there is this lightness that floats
like a cloud
this unbreakability of a
situation
there is this murmur of the femur
the chant of the brunt
nothing is full
yet nothing is empty still
 
RIC S. BASTASA
   
 

   
   
 

  9199.     

NOTHING (i am not original on this)

The poor have it.
The rich do not need it.
It is more evil than the devil.
It is greater than God.
Do not eat it
For if you do,
Then you die.
 
RIC S. BASTASA
   
 

   
   
 

  9200.     

nothing about any 4th of july

i've seen the face of the
winner

the one who survived from that war
and his triumphant entry in the iron gates of the
old city

he is just one of us
scarred and scared and now simply wants
to stay and just be
one of us

sitting on one of the chairs in the veranda
watching the sunset
drinking beer
smoking a cigar

talking about the mundane event
how to fish
how it feels to gather shells in the seashore
how to make love
for the first time in his life

for life is simple and must be lived simply
like all the rest

nothing special, nothing exaggerated
nothing about any 4th of july
 
RIC S. BASTASA
   
 
 
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Poems By Poet RIC S. BASTASA