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Poems By Poet RIC S. BASTASA  5/21/2013 4:18:31 AM
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  RIC S. BASTASA
 
 
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  10797.     

sssssssssh, please do not talk about it

sssssssssssshhhh
be silent now, do not ever mention my name
the connotations of my name
the one i talk about me about you
and us,
the rumors are always sweet
and you like them and you cannot hold yourself
from spreading them
to everyone who knows the power of my name
its magic spell
its sweetness like a coconut dessert
with you now
my name shall have its stains and i will be in ruin

sssssssssssshhh, stop
do not talk about my name now,
the rumors may be sweet to the ears of my enemies
and false friends
they will have the dose now, of their own medicines,
thinking that i am down, depressed, or even dead
to the last detail of my own perdition,

i will rise to save myself and tell them all
that the rumors are not true,

i will show them a happy face and some dancing steps
some pictures of my big smile

no, they will not believe me
they will believe you, as expected, i have anticipated all these

today, i will die
laughing....
 
RIC S. BASTASA
   
 

   
   
 

  10798.     

St Frances Xavier Cabrini

he travelled
he worked and his health suffered
he met and was weakened by a thousand difficulties
but to him
all those were nothing

this world is so small
the sufferrings whatever were they
were just few
to him this world is nothing

the space is too small
imperceptible

because he is accustomed to dwell in eternity
 
RIC S. BASTASA
   
 

   
   
 

  10799.     

sta. ana wind

have you ever
send autumn leaves
falling
making a heap
of yellow and brown
and orange
on the ground?

in the same manner
i have not seen
the sta. ana wind
but you make me feel
as though
i am within
the softness of the wind

the falling of the leaves
so sweetly

i love it
when you set me free
finally

my hair
keeping some of the
sta. ana wind
my hands
letting go the
autumn leaves
in my mind
 
RIC S. BASTASA
   
 

   
   
 

  10800.     

Stability

when you wake up
in the morning
the night before when
you were drunk

you open same window
beside your bed
you watch the same
clock and you reset it
at the same time

the air outside is cold
and the drapes begin to
dance to the nuances of
what is sad and daily

same thing over and over
again
upon enumerated acts and
things

this is living and there
is nothing new
this is pure routine and
stability.
 
RIC S. BASTASA
   
 
 
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Poems By Poet RIC S. BASTASA