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Poems By Poet RIC S. BASTASA  12/22/2014 4:39:31 PM
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  RIC S. BASTASA
 
 
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  9597.     

one for the road...

one for the road
that is the last thing

and i had it
one for the road before saying

good night to my friends
who must leave me

because i have decided that i
do not belong
to them or
their causes anymore

there will be no deaths between us
we part

now i must plunge
into the river

of my own doing my own making
the water is in my mind

moss grow on my head
fish start swimming in my brain

there are turtles in my tummy
carrying my own houses

to my long journey.
 
RIC S. BASTASA
   
 

   
   
 

  9598.     

one gets used to all these

one gets used to all these
these and that, matters of the heart and soul
veiled with secrecy, worshiped as a secrecy
a devastation of the mind
a burning of the soul but no matter what
we both are here
still strong and silent in pain
rejoicing that oh,
somehow God has a plan for each of us
dead or alive
a room is reserved, a blue sky, a full moon,
a shining morning sun
a white butterfly, a scar that heals
exciting walks of life, stair by stair we tread upon
milestones
we shake our hands
we are here, and move on to the next, where no one
no one
can say, that this is all we have,

look over there,
there is more to all these

go.
 
RIC S. BASTASA
   
 

   
   
 

  9599.     

one hand, alone, cannot clap, but somehow it can still touch...

alone with
nothing

but
integrity

somehow

everything is
within the reach
of one
hand

it cannot clap
nevertheless it knows

how to point and
still

touch the
sensitivity of
the heart...
 
RIC S. BASTASA
   
 

   
   
 

  9600.     

one i take a closer look at my picture

i was the man
with that black shirt
perhaps what i do not know
is that
i love black
subconsciously
and then i see time creeping
on my white hairs
and then i take a closer
scrutiny on that
pocketed smile
there must be fear somehow
yet there is that glow
of courage
i look straight in my eyes
in that picture
i love black i must admit
it delights my senses
it is warm
and dark like the night
and the storm
and the fallen trees
somehow
i confirm upon myself this
blackness that i love

and then i swear
i love myself and
no one takes that
oath from me again.
 
RIC S. BASTASA
   
 
 
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Poems By Poet RIC S. BASTASA