|
|
|
Best Poems From RIC S. BASTASA
|
|
| |
|
|
5997.
|
focal point...
what you are telling me is that you lack focus
i imagine what focus is
when i was a child i held a magnifying glass
and focused it to a ball of dried weeds
i got light from the sun
and of course the ball of weed turns into a ball of fire
i see the sun as the center of the universe inside my heart
i remember what you need: focus
just be careful, you will burn a ball of planets
soon you shall see a conflagration in our universe
all of us
not just watching but burning
now, with focus, comes what you think is success,
be careful, we may never find each other again
me? look at me? i am out of focus, i once burned all my books.
RIC S. BASTASA
|
| |
|
|
| |
|
| |
|
|
5998.
|
Fog on Highway 5
we stopped right there
in Highway 5
because of the fog
and no other
just the two of us
the fog in Highway 5
and I
RIC S. BASTASA
|
| |
|
|
| |
|
| |
|
|
5999.
|
following no rules
...is like going towards a house
on a mountaintop
the trees there have
ripe fruits for the picking
lots of jack
fruits spreading a map
of smell
and you focus your gaze
and you do not know
which way
you follow a scent
a view
and you bow down
to a thick grass
finding your way in there
you are not lost
you are tired
the house is still there
the fruits are about to fall
no one has gone there yet
in your wild
imagination
a native tells you frankly
sir, it is only the top of the mountain
nothing more
RIC S. BASTASA
|
| |
|
|
| |
|
| |
|
|
6000.
|
fondling just one word
it started with just one word,
just the
I
and then it changes to
It
though there was an attempt
to use the word We,
as a matter of
transformation
in a certain reaction,
but in the nature of all selfish
designs from that single nose
to a single heart
to a hardheaded
sole mind,
unwanting to share, the world
shifted to the I,
the We topples down like
an edifice of mockery
people not wanting to be
with the other and the
pain concomitant with
the misunderstanding of
the We,
irreconciliable differences,
the need for space
and time
definitely there is no
They
oh, the flock is uncontrollable
and blind
and uniformity is abhorred
and looked upon
with so much disfavor
and besides,
the we has become
an expensive venture,
we finally go back to the
I, and since then
we invoke self-respect,
dignity, and solitude,
it is the I
that finally triumphs,
well, there is this
loneliness
maybe, but,
on the other hand,
there is this strength,
or even stronger
nevertheless
RIC S. BASTASA
|
| |
|
|
|
|
|
|