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Poems By Poet RIC S. BASTASA  10/24/2014 6:50:30 PM
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  11589.     

thanks she says for the beautiful scenes

the castles of salzburg
the prairies of prussia
the tundras of russia

the rivers of Arno ang the Volga
the towers of France and America

the snow in Dubai and the islands miniaturized
in his world

all these beautiful places
she says, she had been there

except the place
in his heart. She is so sorry.
She has not seen
love there.
 
RIC S. BASTASA
   
 

   
   
 

  11590.     

Thanks To Me

there is such thing as
being lost as others see you
because you are not doing
what they expect you to do
i need not mention all those
passages or rituals like...
but i am more into this
self-discovery thing such
as doing what i really want to
do but those that do not destroy me
those that do not make me fall into
fear but into the comforts of my own
space, my own paradise, and
i guess i have found it,
something like just being myself
without the interference of other's
moral codes or
majority's etiquette
thus i wake up at night and sleep
the following morning
i write more than have to speak
and just stay inside rather than
have fun with what we deem as
friends or kin

this way i am like a seed growing
in my own soil
moving at my own pace
and slowly unfolding as myself
and no other....
 
RIC S. BASTASA
   
 

   
   
 

  11591.     

Thanksgiving Prayer (from the hungry boy)

Lord You are Good
Thank You For the Food.

Amen.
 
RIC S. BASTASA
   
 

   
   
 

  11592.     

that afternoon

i was there again
standing by the side of the old
glass windows
hazy because of the dust
it is hazy, hazy
the sea is linen white
the coconut trees as tall as they are very old
planted perhaps before the war
before the Japanese came
and ravished the spirits of our innocent people
i was there again
standing on a moment
always seeing
that rusty van parked
without its front wheel
nobody from there is asking
what is happening
it is hazy, as hazy as dusts
on that old glass window
then a black bird flies through
it breaking the thin old glass
into shattered pieces

the afternoon ended
on that sudden noise
i am telling you
i am not shocked because
i am not new to this
how can i be? i am as old and as
tall as that coconut tree
i am from this place
and i know each grain of sand
on the shore
of that white linen sea.
 
RIC S. BASTASA
   
 
 
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Poems By Poet RIC S. BASTASA