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Poems By Poet RIC S. BASTASA  9/1/2014 6:23:28 AM
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  RIC S. BASTASA
 
 
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  12797.     

the love we had behind that door one sunday afternoon

the love behind that door
one sunday afternoon when all of them were gone to church
we were silly and hot and
thrilled to the tempest of our flesh
the passions that burn like a wildfire in the camp
we closed the door
with our two bodies in fear
but the heat was even more
tempting we set aside
possibilities in hell
all we thought of was
heaven and the songs of angels

we banged the door together
we were afraid no more of conseqences
we had thrown clothes and underwears
under the chairs
the world and its rules did not matter
we were making a stand of
teen-age love
the supple youth that must rule
the world of unfounded fears

what we remembered most
were the volcanoes
they all erupted and we closed our eyes
and the magma flowed
all the lava moved
all the fiery fires and sounds of
cracking pyroplastics
the sweet explosions in our ears

then we listened afterwards
the mellow songs of our hearts
we take our calm seats we hold our tired hands
and then the sunday door opened again

as though nothing important really happened
we assured ourselves by the mutual silent gazes of our eyes
the scented air came in
and we were refreshed again
 
RIC S. BASTASA
   
 

   
   
 

  12798.     

the loveless self...

behind you is the dark
the dark is also in front of you

there is a sound of the
bling bling and the blang blang

and the scenery of the
fling fling and the flong flong

you are confused
and you ask
what are all these?
these should have been understood
by you since
you are not deaf and blind

by all means you are healthy
and perfectly sound

your hands know how to grasp
steel and smooth and ready

all these must never be told
it will serve you right if they are not at all understood

(lest you will die laughing and say
that all these are nothing and do not
serve any purpose at all

all too trivial and do not deserve
the dignities of your responses)

these can never be understood
since no one owns you...

.... loveless self...
 
RIC S. BASTASA
   
 

   
   
 

  12799.     

the lovely animation of the mouse....

oh look at you, so demanding.
Firstly, the moral of the story is still the original

.. the story was peaceful
(as you can see from the background music)
and the lion wasn't a 'softie'

you power hungry piece of crap.
He was majestic and calm.
As are most people who are truly secure of their power.

The animation style was beautiful and in it's own style,
more natural.
That's why the trap was of
vines.

my god! you sound so lame screaming over nothing
and being so demanding
over lovely animation.
 
RIC S. BASTASA
   
 

   
   
 

  12800.     

The Lovely Encounter

if you could only see what
i have seen as i try to write these lines

how many times have i told you
about seeing love and then
writing about it?

love is not just an idea
there is flesh, younger flesh on strong bones
there is that softness of the hair
the scent of magnolias
there is this sound of the sea breeze

there is color like the yellowness of the fabric
that covers desire
there is this taste of a little salt from the sea
the sweetness of cherry
and the flavor of rum and
the sound of a hum

if you could only see what i see and feel and taste and touch
what i have here beside me

i know you

shall forget writing these lines
... you shall write everything about all these
after.
 
RIC S. BASTASA
   
 
 
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Poems By Poet RIC S. BASTASA