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Poems By Poet RIC S. BASTASA  3/6/2015 10:22:44 PM
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  RIC S. BASTASA
 
 
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  11577.     

something negligible

like small amounts of caffeine
small doses of morphine
a little sugar
a pinch of salt
a dropp of honey
some other matters
negligible
an out of town date with
infidelity
a tint of light
a shadow of a chunk of
a body of
a quart of solubility
diffusing into a very small space
a little part of water
and sand
a little of everything
until you become little too
tiny like a grain
of iron filling
still attached magnetically
to something
undefined.
 
RIC S. BASTASA
   
 

   
   
 

  11578.     

something new

things are meant not to last
there is always the right time for them to break
into pieces and no matter how we piece them together
they still shatter
like telling you that they are meant to go, to be broken, to be thrown away

a lap top has a time frame of its own
the virus come in waiting and then all of its essence is gone
you weep for things?
don't. They do not weep for you. You are sad when they break? Don't
They don't feel anything at all for you.

a car for twelve years is not your car anymore
the chassis simply take in rust and some wires get meshed up
with tantrums and like nerves they too go awry and die

malfunction so to say from the language of things and tools
now, we see each other. I am human. I am not a piece, a thing.
I am not a car. I am not a lap top with a time frame
for its breaking
a time for throwing and trading-in
a time simply for replacing

Look at me. I have tears. My skin bleeds when you hurt me.
My heart beats faster when you kiss me.

As we throw away what we do not need now
After all the years of keeping, we reflect.

I have this heart that beats for you. I have time outside the frame
of utility. We grow. We commit. We savor.We are present.

For twelve years now, You will always be someone new.
Let the sun shine. Let the heart beat for a new meaning. Love.
 
RIC S. BASTASA
   
 

   
   
 

  11579.     

something new.....

time has matured
when i arrived here i never thought
of going back

i never think of home
not death.
 
RIC S. BASTASA
   
 

   
   
 

  11580.     

something nuclear...

smallness creates a myriad
possibilities
tiny cannot be underestimated
i agree
the atom explodes

shock is gone
 
RIC S. BASTASA
   
 
 
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Poems By Poet RIC S. BASTASA