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Poems By Poet RIC S. BASTASA  9/30/2014 2:52:42 PM
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  RIC S. BASTASA
 
 
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  9505.     

Not Fitting In Despite All Those Years

sometimes you envy
the monk in maroon peacefully
crossing the street
somewhere in Ho Chi Minh

or even an earthen bowl half-filled with water
with a jasmine flower floating
upon a very still world

you like to take the brush and some water colors
to paint all these

but it is a little crowded world you have there
there is simply no time for wasting
it's a fast paced lifestyle

the lifelessness of the to and fro
the unstoppable flow
trying to accomplish almost everything
without meaning.

somewhere in a dream
you wish you were the monk
or even
the jasmine

and then you hit your chest with your fist
convincing yourself that at a certain hour
you can be so foolish
still not fitting in despite all those years

'how can you be a beautiful jasmine in a concrete wall?
how can you be the monk in maroon in a public market full of
swindlers and screaming spice vendors? '

amidst the mess, in the middle of the crowd
how can you be a dream?
 
RIC S. BASTASA
   
 

   
   
 

  9506.     

not going anywhere

i remember her
all in white
all dressed
but not going anywhere

she has a name
she gives herself
a little sip
of descartes

and jean paul-Sartre
and the rest
from whom

there is neither
entrance nor
exit

trapped. caught.
claustrophobic.
caustic. sour cream.
cranky

she wants
an immersion in murky
rivers

she cannot thing
of any place beyond
her or us

her hand reaches
for her hand
alone.

my atheist lover..
 
RIC S. BASTASA
   
 

   
   
 

  9507.     

not having obtained the much needed kiss

she is hugless and i am briefless
she is far away from the clutches of my arms
i send my pic hugging the air
she responds by saying she is feeling hot and sexy in there
i send another pic
i am kissing my own lips. How dare? How could i ever do such thing?
Narcissus. Jesus!
she responds, you are a good model for organic farming,

i look like shit. She ends it.
 
RIC S. BASTASA
   
 

   
   
 

  9508.     

not having to belong

you have not asked
but i am giving it away

i have so much
but i am not keeping any

in fear i live without ears
perhaps for a hundred years

you should have known this wrong
how happy is it not to belong.
 
RIC S. BASTASA
   
 
 
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Poems By Poet RIC S. BASTASA