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Poems By Poet RIC S. BASTASA  3/2/2015 2:32:11 PM
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  11601.     

SOMETIMES

sometimes i feel
so stupid and so stupid
that i like being called stupid
by other stupid people out
there who think that
they are not stupid

sometimes i like to laugh
at myself and call myself
crazy and behave like i
am crazy and then suddenly
a man comes next to me
and asks me

why am i happy?

i think he is not stupid anymore.
 
RIC S. BASTASA
   
 

   
   
 

  11602.     

SOMETIMES i am not okey

Sometimes i have tantrums too
like i have
deeper depressions
sharper tongues like that of a
Philippine king cobra
willing to spit my venom
my fatal bite
to an innocent passer-by

we all have the breeding of some sphinx
traceable to the lines
of some Medusas and cyclops
and dragons

do not deny the nerves and veins
of the devil still clinging
to our flesh, running and so alive

we have all these sometimes
like some storms and tornadoes
and flash floods and
volcanic eruptions and
tsunamis.... the forces of nature
tattooed in our skins
stained in our brains

just give me time
while i write the poetry of anger, and madness and
hate,

do not even wait as i simmer down to indifference
leave me alone
in my destructive destinations

wait, and wait some more
if you have love at all,
let me go, let me vent, let me shout, let me explode

for tonight
when the moon is full, i lay tired on the grass by the
tranquil pool,
still trees, cool but undisturbed by any ripple

when all these pass,
come, share a drink with me
come, let us again talk in whispers
then some smiles
then a loud laughter

we shall be
always together, when all these bad things are over
 
RIC S. BASTASA
   
 

   
   
 

  11603.     

Sometimes I Also Wonder If

sometimes i wonder if
this world is listening
to every word that each man
is shouting against each other

to every verbal abuse
that husbands inflict
against their wives

sometimes i wonder if
this world too feels the harshness
of the sound
of the door that is banged against
each frame
at the edge when hinges
begin to fall out
from each rusted
screw

sometimes i ask if it knows
the pain that nails inflict
upon wood

the decent sharpness of the axe
that cuts across
barks and
trunks
in every tree that falls down
to the forest
grounds
 
RIC S. BASTASA
   
 

   
   
 

  11604.     

Sometimes I am amazed of the magic that is done

It all started with something insignificant
Like dust,
Sticking on a window pane, and I want it
Dusted off, it is dirt, it is unwanted,
And I do not even know what to do next
About such
Insignificance and feelings of simply
Trying to get rid of dust immediately,
But then, I begin to think about this
Dust, this me, this dust in me,
Some dusts on my feet, some dusts on
My forehead, and some dusts in my ears,
Some dusts in my eyes so obstructive
Of what I really am, and I know what to do next,
The bulb lighting in my head in a sudden,
I touch the dust,
I feel the dust with my fingers, and I am crazy enough
I taste the dust on my window pane,
And I shiver,
I am shaking to its taste, the taste of nothingness
If was from dust that I really come,
I now remember,
It will be to dust that I shall return,
I am now reminded,
And the dust that I used to see
As dirt, as something so insignificant, is now,
A magical patch, glistening, so filled with meaning,
I am nothing but dust; I am biting the dust,

I am very insignificant, in that window pane, at first.
 
RIC S. BASTASA
   
 
 
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Poems By Poet RIC S. BASTASA