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Poems By Poet RIC S. BASTASA  10/31/2014 9:52:55 AM
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  Best Poems From
  RIC S. BASTASA
 
 
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  9505.     

No One

no one taught the fledgling
to finally fly and be itself
perhaps
the feathers that grow all over its body
taught it
perhaps just like us
our hearts
contained the imprints
that
just like the birds that haven't known air
too, make us
feel that love
 
RIC S. BASTASA
   
 

   
   
 

  9506.     

no one can stop us to write

and they must know the reason why,
simple enough
we are writers and our essence is to write
for writing's sake
nothing aimed nothing gained nothing lost
we write because we are here
and we are here because we write
we write because if we do not
we no longer become ourselves
we lose our salt we become just like any
flesh, rotten, infected with bacteria
foul, and finally become just dust
on the corner of the road

we write and we keep on writing
because we are
we do not need the praise
or the condemnation
we do not need an audience
or an empty space

we write because we are
that is our essence and no one can stop us

except perhaps when the word is gone.
 
RIC S. BASTASA
   
 

   
   
 

  9507.     

NO ONE DEMANDS

... that there must be respect
to the wings of a fly, a mere fly
on top of a garbage
from your kitchen,

that there must be respect
to a leaf of a mahogany
on a permission to take it
away from a twig,

that there must be respect
for the handful of water that
you drink from the river,

that there must be respect
for the porcupine fish
from the bottom of the sea
even if it's form be
hateful,

the air is sacred
the sea is sacred
the tree is sacred
like every man, every baby,
every eye
every hand
the spider is sacred
and so is the carabao
resting in the mud hole
after a hard day's toil

every carapace
an empty shell
every grain of sand
belongs to no one

respect and live
on the blessings
of Mother Earth.
 
RIC S. BASTASA
   
 

   
   
 

  9508.     

No One Escapes From The Hands Of Love

beautiful soft fingers
caressing your hair
your body
your pelvis
your legs and toes

no one escapes from the
whispers of love
telling you about a tryst
a garden
a grassy field
the softest of green
the freshness of air
under the moon
your hand
above her hands
your fingers entwine
to her fingers
in perfect
fit.
 
RIC S. BASTASA
   
 
 
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Poems By Poet RIC S. BASTASA