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Poems By Poet RIC S. BASTASA  9/2/2014 1:42:28 AM
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  9597.     

not able to recall each word anymore...

yes, we burn all the leaves
we do not really like to see the ashes on the ground
so we summon the rain
to spread the foul smell of the dead
thin
and unrecognizable and we ask the grass
to spread
as quickly as possible
to cover the tracks

and then that summer what we see
we like to see
green grass, blue sky, fresh air
flying birds, fluttering green butterflies

we love those conversations
though we do not recall each word anymore
 
RIC S. BASTASA
   
 

   
   
 

  9598.     

NOT ALL

Not all know what waiting is all about.
Not all flowers bloom and understand
what buds are.
Not all rivers flow and know where the sea is.
Not every event knows the wisdom of destiny.

Beware my son, there is not much of us left
we who have read the lines of our palms
and understand the movement of the stars
we who respect the change of the seasons
and understand the reasons for changes
and transformations
not all caterpillars know about butterflies
beware my son
beginnings are there because
there is always an end, and always remember
my son,
the glory and the gladness that is promised
beyond us.
 
RIC S. BASTASA
   
 

   
   
 

  9599.     

not anymore...

honestly, i like to speak
speaking had long been my past time and i supposed
i have mastered the art of nice conversations where i am not really involved myself.
honestly i like to speak with you and have fun with words, taking games with
accents and twists of wits and
tits,
nothing to spit, just little glitz in finches
honestly i love dialogues but i was once betrayed by your own words and when i was about to take complete action, enforcement or preventive or otherwise
you raised your voice, and arms and blocked my hands
and i was feeling so helpless and made a promise to myself never again shall i
interfere in your affairs
now you are back with some instructions and i told myself this is a toad
this is a horrible snake a killer shark and i pretend that i have no
conclusions

all i can say, perhaps, or maybe
tomorrow or just another day, just wait
but deep within i say

i quit.
 
RIC S. BASTASA
   
 

   
   
 

  9600.     

Not because we are friends

Not because we are friends then I will
Be dishonest, calling a spade a diamond,

I don’t work that way, ugly is ugly
Pretty is pretty, and bad is bad and

Good is good to me, no matter what,
And you show me your face with a

New haircut, and ask me if you look
Good, and I say, you look the other

Way around, is the barber still alive?
Then you show me your poem that you

Wrote last night, and you ask me
What do you think? I think it is

I take a look, read a while and
Twitch my face many times than usual

Garbage, throw it in the wastebasket
And you say I am cruel, I am inconsi-

Derate about how you feel. I am
Telling you, you are my friend and

We are friends because we are honest.
Why not try writing another one again?

I will not teach you though, I write so
Bad myself, feeling so bad, but I will not stop

Being myself & be my harshest critique
I bought another trashcan, bigger this time.
 
RIC S. BASTASA
   
 
 
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Poems By Poet RIC S. BASTASA