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Poems By Poet RIC S. BASTASA  10/1/2014 7:19:23 PM
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  RIC S. BASTASA
 
 
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  3197.     

a little difference

there is
a change
a little difference
in the morning
in this town
when the bell
tolls
after the flood
the people
begins
to pray again
a new life
perhaps
or fear
that God may
send
another flood
again
 
RIC S. BASTASA
   
 

   
   
 

  3198.     

a little discomfort

there is a little pain
that goes on and on
and on,
a prick at the finger
tip, a pressure on the
toe, something steps
at you,
an idea
a discomfort of your
mind,
you write it
it rebels
the description is
short of what it
really is

and this is always
everyday
at dawn you wake
up
some luminous
letters are dancing
above your
head
glowing like
fireflies
tumbling and
whirling and
staring
at times

you write about it
again
but they melt
like your
dreams

on the floor
there is nothing
left

some dusts you
breathe
from the
dark carpet
 
RIC S. BASTASA
   
 

   
   
 

  3199.     

A Little Discourse On This Journey With Me

i carry no light
i am crawling in this tunnel of dimness
bats hang on the ceiling of
wet stones
they do not sing
they're too preoccupied with their
silence
nothing about stares or
glances,
i carry with me the burden
of loneliness
morbid so they say
i have nothing to give except the truth
of the malady of
our chopped existences
sometimes i speak to the glowing
worm
i am not crazy though to expect
any logical
or sound response
this is the truth of our
living life
in the folds of indifference
i wonder though
why are you following me?

do you find joy in my shadows?
i look at my back
in truth there is none

so many are following
and now i know why
i know what it is

you nod.
 
RIC S. BASTASA
   
 

   
   
 

  3200.     

a little disturbed

at 2: 01 in the morning
you switch on the light
a little bit dim
not to hurt your eyes
and you get out of bed
naked

you open the door
towards the kitchen
and get a glass of water

you drink
you want to satisfy thirst
wetting your tongue
and gargling the coldness
swallowing it gently
feeling this creeping
coldness to your
throat down
to your abdomen

something is burning
inside
and the water is
not killing it

you sit and think
a while and stare
at the light

there is nothing there
except the glare

now you wonder
sleep is still nowhere
 
RIC S. BASTASA
   
 
 
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Poems By Poet RIC S. BASTASA