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Poems By Poet RIC S. BASTASA  9/4/2015 5:21:15 AM
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  Best Poems From
  RIC S. BASTASA
 
 
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  11633.     

She Is Mad

she is mad because i take in
an insane electrician of the house connections

and yes there are explosions like the fourth of July
short circuits here and there
and the kitchen burns itself

so much go out
i let out what we had stored for years

and then we go out of the house laughing hard
we simply get rid what we do not need and then we become too light
and happier.
 
RIC S. BASTASA
   
 

   
   
 

  11634.     

She Is No Longer Innocent About The Ways Of The World

you think she is as fragile as a thin glass of cherry wine
that when you touch the tip with your finger
she blushes and the glass gets warmer with your thumb
its bottom at the mercy of your palm

you like to think that she is a flower blooming on the month of May
where the dews are as careful as the sap of the red melon
nothing that stains the skin and dirties the white linen

then you discover a lot of things
first, the way she uses the pillow putting it just bellow her buttocks
then the way she calls your name like the hush of the break of day's breeze
from the distant sea
mournful and yet so awakening to your senses
the way she puts her legs and spreads her arms to hold your body
she is like the full moon peeping over the window that you open
you let her in and she sleeps like a fantasy dream on your bed

every sense of you wakes up like there is a fire in the house
adrenalin rushes inside your thighs
you are undressed and in the naked truth you come to her
something unspeakable
unfathomed
giving you the freedom to plunge in the paradise
long denied by them for you

you found the map to her labyrinth of pleasure
and once there
you do not want to leave

this is your home
your niche where your hands thrive like the needles of grass
where you mind glows like the stars
alive and singing

this is pleasure immeasurable
her lips her breasts her arms her abdomen her eyes
her hands gripping your hands
her feet entwined like the vine to the pillar of your house
her soft voice her moans

the cock is crowing and by all means say hello to a very
nice morning

a new day to the first day of your life.
 
RIC S. BASTASA
   
 

   
   
 

  11635.     

She Is Not Also Looking For Anybody.

...And then we behave like
beggars in need of affection

if you see us dressed on our
Sunday's best
waiting along the busy road
for someone who
never arrives
you would have known what
pity is all about

we eat time, we squander it
like a prodigal son,
we do not mind what is left

loneliness too is tiresome
expensive and senseless

you know what i mean
look at you, you are fully dressed
'but you are not going anywhere'
you are waiting
for no one

there is one who arrives here
but what a pity
she is not also looking for
anybody.
 
RIC S. BASTASA
   
 

   
   
 

  11636.     

She Is Playing Misty With Me

i do not mean that this fling
can cling
and hurt, it started as a minor poem
in my heart
and then she swallowed love hook, line and sinker,
taking this bait, he thought he loves her,
it does not work that way
for something deeper than a mere
poem of the minor category
the mist is being played
and the fatal attraction grows
into a murderous affair, and she might be there holding a knife
and Alex comes to the scene and finding her
shoots her with a gun.

she bathes in her own blood, the police came again at the late hour
of the night.

God! thanks it is just another nightmare.
I wake up and take a glass of ice cold water.

I need to go back to sleep again.
 
RIC S. BASTASA
   
 
 
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Poems By Poet RIC S. BASTASA