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Poems By Poet RIC S. BASTASA  10/30/2014 11:38:53 AM
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  Best Poems From
  RIC S. BASTASA
 
 
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  11797.     

that new sound of silence...

to some extent
where there are no flowers
when the sun
is beclouded
to survive you learn to
paint
combine colors with light
mix them with
your thoughts
until you create your own world

you remember a boy
abandoned by mother and taken
in a very strange place
away from his friends
sitting in a nook playing
with the new sounds of
silence.
 
RIC S. BASTASA
   
 

   
   
 

  11798.     

that night when my poem was stolen

that night when my poem was stolen
i looked up the sky and saw
the moon smiling and the stars winking
more beautifully than before
and i was wondering
the change

something must be special
about what i told them
my poem was stolen

the wind was in a hurry leaving
a message that i should have been angry
and should have reacted
the way other poets do
report the matter to the authorities
and file the charge
of intellectual thievery

i could have reacted like an angry man
deprived of a priced possession
but on the other hand
i, go beyond what others think,
i could be more kind
and understanding and more compassionate
to thieves
i ask: does he like the poem? does he love it
so as to steal it?
will he sell it? will he keep it throughout his life
and treasure it the way i treasure it too?

in the last analysis, that poem is not really mine too
it is God given, a gift during another birthday of
emptiness, another day of loneliness
and in fact, the poem was about a black rose
unfolding its petals on a very dark night
and then coming out of a crevice from
a deserted building and then found a way
to bloom one morning
but darker still....

all my poems, anyway, are written for someone
or anybody out there, lurking in the dark, looking for an opening,
wanting to drink the coming light of day, searching for their angels
of light and freedom and happiness

well, that poem that was stolen, could be intended
or meant for the thief, and so, i have come to the conclusion
that i might as well, finally,

give it to him
or her, i don't even know who that shadow was,

there was simply this shadow fading in the ward.
that poem now shall be my gift to whoever shall have it
in the future

i think, i know, how it feels now, to really give, even if it hurts.
 
RIC S. BASTASA
   
 

   
   
 

  11799.     

That Old Streetcar Already Named Desire

blue jasmine
you are not as blue as
that lady who once rode
the streetcar named
desire

and sometimes
there is that question of
beauty
verging on a thin line
of

insanity as it
could be but who would want
that to be

this beauty that you are
jasmine bluer than that
blonde in that old streetcar
already named
desire
 
RIC S. BASTASA
   
 

   
   
 

  11800.     

That Old Water Well In Olingan

it is far
from civilization
only a few
have reached
there

it is deep
and full and
my genealogy
source of
survival

i go back there
again
refreshed and
thirst
quenched
for its memories

mother bathing a
boy
horse drinking
from a pail
natives filling
their drums
maidens singing
and men
wooing them
for a night of
love
after

when the needy have
left
to take their much
needed rest

there the well
stays
sighing
but meaningfully
filled

it has served
so well
less the selfishness
of all
men.
 
RIC S. BASTASA
   
 
 
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Poems By Poet RIC S. BASTASA