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Poems By Poet RIC S. BASTASA  7/9/2014 7:14:16 PM
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  RIC S. BASTASA
 
 
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  9597.     

procrastination at 6 a.m.

the book is open
page 103 is waiting

to be read and to be
understood yet

you are into something
more that pleases your hands

it is the action now and not
the contemplation

it is the moving on with
what the lips shall utter

to make you understand what
is losing and what is regaining

what is it to decompose and
retake the composure

you do not read between the
lines of a fusing self

the book closes upon itself
showing you the face of the

trunk, solid, stoic, and
bland.
 
RIC S. BASTASA
   
 

   
   
 

  9598.     

procrastinations of the hands

what to do? you know
when to do it? wait a while
there is so much time
unwind, spend more time
to what is unnecessary
loaf like a unleavened
bread
skip the moment
and stare and then record
all the things that you
miss

there's so much undone
but more happiness of the mind
 
RIC S. BASTASA
   
 

   
   
 

  9599.     

production line

much is much and
so many is like sand sprawling
on the shore... so much so many
and one who lays her body on
the sandy shore
takes sand for granted just another
part of this mass production of
things in her ordinary world: rocks, pebbles, stones,
sands,
what value can there be on a speck of dust
a grain of sand
becomes like her sun, too ordinary for her sunburn-skin

what's got the sun to do with me?
or the sand?
her sunglasses speak for her
in the middle of her empty hours
basking under the sun

production some times, so much for so many
meaninglessness growing like fruits of the poisonous tree

i could have kept one, just one
kept it inside my heart, i could have known what is precious,

diamond, just one,
glittering in the darkest hour of my night.

but there is no one really, all i have are mass produced, and
like sand, i lay my body on the shore, spreading so thinly without
feelings.
 
RIC S. BASTASA
   
 

   
   
 

  9600.     

professional

he is the man
who sits on his
big black chair
smoking a cigar
earns a lot of
money by
simply doing
nothing

lots of phone calls
though
either for the safari
in south Africa
or the affair
in Jamaica
 
RIC S. BASTASA
   
 
 
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Poems By Poet RIC S. BASTASA