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Best Poems From
RIC S. BASTASA
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10805.
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SLEEPLESS NIGHTS
sleepless nights
are always involuntary
for who wants not
to enjoy the rest
God's gift to a busy
man earning honestly
his keep
beyond our will
sleeps sometimes is cruel
refusing to visit
the windows of our
eyes
the whole night you
wake up
recording the night's
travails
keeping in touch
with the lives of
cockroaches
and mosquitoes
it is a cruel world
but you have not erred
not sinned and so
so you are forgiven.
RIC S. BASTASA
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10806.
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slip disc
at C-6
and C-7
the numbness is
far beyond
the real cause, it spreads
at the tip
and you are so confused,
things are not working well,
and the flesh and nerve swell,
it is not a plane or a place
not a car
there is the bamboo inserted
between
your spine surrenders.
RIC S. BASTASA
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10807.
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slow....
slowly
one finds what had long been missing,
it is not seen
it is just felt by the lines of the palms
by the tips of
the fingers
slowly one remembers the scent
it is not seen
it is getting inside the nerves
of the nostrils
and then one begins to remember
and then
the lips begin to part
shaping that
lonesome
smile.
RIC S. BASTASA
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10808.
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slowing down
did we not believe that something that is fast
is good, equating it with the benevolence of efficiency?
we are convinced and we get carried away
and so our nerves are fast our bones do not rattle
our feet keep on running and our hands are always on for something
something to do as though idleness is death
and sickness, as though rest is a mortal sin and death is heinous,
our eyes roll and we keep on talking and talking about plans
plan A, and if this does not work proceed to plan B,
B-1 to B-5, and everyday is always a commotion
of beeps and buzzers, and the doors keep on closing and opening,
never shutting up like our mouths
meetings and overnight discussions with what to do with this world
too, it is never at rest, spinning on its axis and engaging in revolutions.
old age comes with staff and near blindness, arms shaking, feet mossy,
and minds getting stoical to doubts and confusions: it is time to stop
to slow down a bit, to know what wishful thinking is all about:
what if? there are ifs now, and soon there will be a bed of regrets
to bury our weary bodies, soon, there will be a silence not
anymore wanting to ever speak.
RIC S. BASTASA
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