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Poems By Poet RIC S. BASTASA  7/30/2014 4:14:43 PM
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  RIC S. BASTASA
 
 
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  9505.     

on a sunny day

the red truck still parks
on the side of the concrete fence

it is TED 413
and still insists that it is

NOT FOR HIRE.
 
RIC S. BASTASA
   
 

   
   
 

  9506.     

on a white bench

at the plaza of this town
fronting the cafe
where i am now writing this poem

i see a white cemented bench
beside a mahogany tree
three men are sitting
they are talking
and i cannot hear them
i am walled
by this glass wall

one wears a white cap
holding a radio
blue faded jeans
and rubber shoes

the second one
a brown subanen native
wearing a white shirt
with a political ads
to vote for mayor dong

the third one
already left before i finished this poem

i could have described him
but i fell short of time and sensitivity

i ask someone beside me
what these three men are up to

they are waiting
they are looking for a job on this hard times
when the price of rice has gone high
together with the gas

i know you want something more than this kind of write
did i keep you waiting too?

tell me did i keep you waiting too for something that you want me to tell you?
i have nothing to tell you

how does it feel to wait, hours perhaps, for something that does not come/
how does it feel to wait

for nothing? tell me, tell me, if you understand now, how is it to sit on a white
bench beside a mahogany tree, in the plaza, in front of an internet cafe

where i write a poem
and nothing nothing really happens
 
RIC S. BASTASA
   
 

   
   
 

  9507.     

on a wooden sailboat

now we shall try riding on a wooden sailboat
to cross this river
it will just be the two of us
with me paddling
and you simply sitting there

the river is still
as my paddle creates the ripples
the sky is reddish
this afternoon and soon it will be dark

you will light our way
as i paddle towards the other end
where they are all waiting
we do not talk much now
we love this silence that wraps us
this silence in another place
this newness
that blooms again

i look at you with anticipation
tonight the room shall only be lighted
with an oil lamp
we shall hear the crickets
and the frogs near the pond
and some birds with strange sounds

some love calls
the mating season has just begun
we have no time to watch
what the other creatures of this far place are doing
we have ourselves now

i will blow the lamp's flickers out
goodnight
we are starting all over again
dreaming

as you take me in your arms
i will remember some quivers
of long time ago
as though i do not know what to do

this is magical
love still exists so well in this darkness faraway from everyone
 
RIC S. BASTASA
   
 

   
   
 

  9508.     

on an early morning

on an early morning by the sea
we shall meet
before those who seek the shells
shall have come

do not wait for the high tide
my footprints
you shall not find anymore
 
RIC S. BASTASA
   
 
 
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Poems By Poet RIC S. BASTASA