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Poems By Poet RIC S. BASTASA  3/4/2015 8:32:47 PM
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  RIC S. BASTASA
 
 
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  11565.     

something i remember....

edu's father
left her mom
for an old woman
with
strategy.
with means.
it is for
citizenship
he justifies.
edu's mom is
a republic.
she says she
does not give
a damn.
and then there is
this edu's wedding.
i am drinking
wine beside my wife
and savoring
my salad.
edu's father comes
and opens a
topic.
know what? divorce is
painful
it tears hearts.
longer than you
can think of.
and i answered.
there is one thing about
divorce.
it is also
a reality.
in fact if you really
need it
for whatever purpose
it serves,
it becomes
one sweet
reality.
the music is so loud.
some women are dancing
the wobble.
the children want to
get away from the
watchful eyes of their
mama.
when he left,
i wonder
how and why i say
such
an intriguing
theory.

statistics will tell.
 
RIC S. BASTASA
   
 

   
   
 

  11566.     

something in me cannot cry

mother told me once
my boy
cry if you will
do not hide your feelings
men cry
your Papa cried when your
Grandpa passed away
twenty years ago
you were then a toddler
in the row

i have grown
and there were so many pains
like pins
and grains

i have cried not just once
but more than thrice
till the nth time
when something in me cannot cry anymore

got no tear glands now
my eyes are made of steel
like the way
you hammered my heart when
you broke it
once

and never got repaired.
 
RIC S. BASTASA
   
 

   
   
 

  11567.     

Something in me does not rest

Perhaps it is my soul
It is restless It is up to something else
Something more important than what I am doing now
It is wriggling. It is conscious of something.
To come.
It is up for something greater than everyday.
I do not know.
I really do not know. It is not speaking to me.

It is like an egg. It is the shell and transparent
Something alive is wriggling wanting to be born.
I am wanting to be reborn. I am not speaking to myself.
It is delicate. It is perhaps something holy.
 
RIC S. BASTASA
   
 

   
   
 

  11568.     

Something in the sand is more honorable than us

Though stepped upon
by all those feet that come
here for no reason but
pleasure

more is found in the sea
than depth
for we come here not for
its mysteries or
what unknowns are there
that it is offering

we who like to wallow in the
shallow
we who says we are tasting
the same salt
all over
we who are talking things lightly
to drive all the demons
that keep us away from the
gentle touches of our
own hands
from the placid shores of our
own eternities.
 
RIC S. BASTASA
   
 
 
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Poems By Poet RIC S. BASTASA